Tom Burnet, son of Bishop Burnet, happening to be at dinner at the Lord Mayor’s, in the latter part of Queen Anne’s reign, when the Tories were for a space triumphant, after two or three healths, “The Ministry” was toasted. Tom, unwilling to compromise his principles by drinking to a cabinet he could not approve of, endeavoured to escape, by telling a story to a person who sat next him. This, however, would not do with the Lord Mayor, who, observing a full glass on the table, called out, “Gentlemen, where sticks the Ministry?” “At nothing,” replied the Whig, and immediately drank off his glass. TORY FIREWORKS. A Whig, of the same stamp with Tom Burnet, being asked what he thought of the fireworks which celebrated the peace of Utrecht (a peace concluded by the Tory ministry much against the wishes of the opposition), “I think,” said he, “they were a burning shame.” GENERAL CAMPBELL. George II., at a review of his horse guards, asked Monsieur de Bussy, the French Ambassador, if he thought the King of France had better troops. “Oh, yes, sir,” answered the ambassador, “the King of France has his gendarmes, which are reckoned the best troops in the world. Did your majesty never see them?” The king answered, “No;” upon which General Campbell, colonel of the Scots Greys (who afterwards lost his life at the battle of Fontenoy), stepped up and said, “Though your majesty has not seen those troops his excellency speaks of, I have seen them: I have cut my way through them twice, and make no doubt of doing the same again, whenever your majesty shall command me.”[C] CAWDOR AND CORDER. The tragedy of Macbeth was acted at a town in Suffolk, and amongst the audience was a man who had been nearly fifty miles, in the course of the day, to see Corder, the memorable murderer, hanged at Bury. Such was the belief entertained to the last, in some parts of the country, that the extreme penalty of the law would not be inflicted, that the man who had seen him die was pestered on all sides for an account of the melancholy spectacle. At last he actually betook himself to the theatre, to avoid further importunities. Just as he entered, the fourth scene of the tragedy was commencing, and he was quietly setting himself down in a box near the stage, when Duncan began, in the words of the author,-- “Is execution done on Cawdor?” “Yes, sir,” said the man, “I saw him hanged this morning--and that’s the last time I’ll answer any more questions about it.” The audience was convulsed with laughter at the strange mistake, and it was some time before the performance could be proceeded with. PATIENCE OF ANGLERS.