Haydn could be comic as well as serious; and he has left a remarkable instance of the former, in the well known symphony, during which all the instruments disappear, one after the other, so that, at the conclusion, the first violin is left playing by himself.  The origin of this singular piece is thus accounted for.  It is said that Haydn, perceiving his innovations were ill received by the performers of Prince Esterhazy, determined to play a joke upon them.  He caused his symphony to be performed, without a previous rehearsal, before his highness, who was in the secret.  The embarrassment of the performers, who all thought they had made a mistake, and especially the confusion of the first violin, when, at the end, he found he was playing alone, diverted the court of Eisenstadt.  Others assert, that the prince having determined to dismiss all his band, except Haydn, the latter imagined this ingenious way of representing the general departure, and the dejection of spirits consequently upon it.  Each performer left the concert room as soon as his part was finished.

PARLIAMENT.

Hume.—­At a parliamentary dinner, Mr. Plunkett was asked if Mr. Hume did not annoy him by his broad speeches.  “No,” replied he, “it is the length of the speeches, not their breadth, that we complain of in the House.”

Henry Lord Falkland having been brought into the House of Commons at a very early age, a grave senator objected to his youth, remarked that “he did not look as if he had sown his wild oats.”  His lordship replied with great quickness, “Then I am come to the fittest place, where there are so many old geese to gobble them up.”

The Duke of Newcastle, who was at the head of the Treasury, frequently differed with his colleague in office, Mr. Pitt, the first Earl of Chatham, though the latter, by his firmness, usually prevailed.  A curious scene occurred at one of their interviews.  It had been proposed to send Admiral Hawke to sea, in pursuit of M. Conflans.  The season was unfavourable, and almost dangerous for a fleet to sail, being the end of the month of November, and very stormy.  Mr. Pitt was at that time confined to his bed by gout, and was obliged to receive visitors in his chamber, in which he could not bear to have a fire.  The Duke of Newcastle waited upon him one very raw day, to discuss the affair of the fleet, but scarcely had he entered the chamber, when shivering with cold, he said, “What, have you no fire?” “No,” replied Mr. Pitt, “I can never bear a fire when I have the gout.”  The duke sat down by the side of the invalid, wrapt up in his cloak, and began to enter upon the subject of his visit.  There was a second bed in the room, and the duke, unable longer to endure the cold, said, “With your leave, I’ll warm myself in this other bed;” and without taking off his cloak, he actually got into the bed, and resumed the debate.  The duke began to argue against exposing the fleet to hazard