Sir Wm. Gooch being engaged in conversation with a gentleman in a street of the city of Williamsburgh, returned the salute of a negro, who was passing by about his master’s business.  “Sir William,” said the gentleman, “do you descend so far as to salute a slave?”—­“Why, yes,” replied the governor; “I cannot suffer a man of his condition to exceed me in good manners.”

PRESENCE OF MIND.

The Marquis St. Andre applied to Louvois, the war-minister of Louis XIV., for a place then vacant.  Louvois having received some complaints against the marquis, refused to comply.  The nobleman, somewhat nettled, said, rather hastily, “If I were to enter again into the service, I know what I would do.”—­“And pray what would you do?” inquired the minister in a furious tone.  St. Andre recollected himself, and had the presence of mind to say, “I would take care to behave in such a manner, that your excellency should have nothing to reproach me with.”  Louvois, agreeably surprised at this reply, immediately granted his request.

Carving.—­An accomplished gentleman, when carving a tough goose, had the misfortune to send it entirely out of the dish, and into the lap of the lady next to him; on which he very coolly looked her full in the face, and with admirable gravity and calmness, said, “Madam, may I trouble you for that goose.”  In a case like this, a person must, necessarily, suffer so much, and be such an object of compassion to the company, that the kindest thing he can do is to appear as unmoved as possible.

Lord Peterborough was once taken by the mob for the duke of Marlborough (who was then in disgrace with them), and being about to be roughly treated by these friends to summary justice, he told them, “Gentlemen, I can convince you, by two reasons, that I am not the duke of Marlborough.  In the first place, I have only five guineas in my pocket; and, in the second, they are heartily at your service.”  So throwing his purse amongst them, he got out of their hands, with loud huzzas and acclamations.

Fouche.—­Napoleon sent for Fouche one day, in a great rage, told him that he was a fool, and not fit to be at the head of the police, as he was quite ignorant of what was passing.  “Pardon me, Sire,” said Fouche; “I know that your Majesty has my dismissal ready signed in your pocket.”  Napoleon changed his mind, and kept his Minister.

Vendean Servant.—­An unexampled instance of self-devotion and presence of mind was manifested by a maidservant, during the war in La Vendee.  “The wife of Lepinai, a general in the Vendean army, was imprisoned at Nantes, and attended by a young girl, a native of Chatellerault, so faithfully attached to the service of her mistress that she had followed her to prison.  One day the soldiers arrived to summon the prisoners who were destined to death:  this faithful girl heard Madame Lepinai called, who had but an instant before retired to her chamber.  Glad of the opportunity of saving the life of her beloved mistress, she presented herself, and answered to the name.  The affectionate creature was instantly led away with the other prisoners, and precipitated among the waves of the Loire, in place of Madame Lepinai.”