There is but one instance on record of James II. uttering an expression of wit or humour, and, strange to say, that would appear to have been expressed from him by the weight of his sorrows at the Revolution. During the advance of the Prince of Orange towards London, as, morning after morning, some leading man or other was found to have left the king’s camp during the night, and gone over to the Liberator, the Prince of Denmark used to exclaim, as each successive instance was related to his majesty, “Est il possible?” (Is it possible?) as if he could not believe there was so much treachery in human nature. At length, the good Prince of Denmark found it necessary, with his wife Anne, to follow the example of those well-principled persons: James remarked, when told of it in the morning, “What! is Est-il-possible gone too!” PROOF. A woman, suspected of having given poison to her husband, was apprehended by the constable. The man certainly looked very ill; yet, as there was no direct proof, and as, above all things, he had not died, there was some probability in her favour. Mr. Constable was sadly puzzled between the pro and con; and was at last fairly driven from the field by the following appeal from the weeping lady:--“I never gave him any thing to hurt him: only _open_ him, and you will see how false it is!” DR. FRIEND. Dr. Friend, coming home after having got himself highly praised at a dinner party, was called out to see a lady taken dangerously ill. With some difficulty he went, or rather was led, to the bedside of the patient; where, holding fast by a bed-post with one hand, he seized with the other the lady’s wrist; but all attempts to note the pulsations were vain, and he could only mumble out, “Drunk, by Jove! Drunk!” “Oh, madam,” cried the waiting-maid, as soon as the physician was gone, “what a wonderful man! How soon he discovered what was the matter with you!” SIR RICHARD JEBB. This eminent physician was a man of impatient, irritable temper, and, when bored with the querulous complaints of some of his patients, could hardly ever force himself to return a civil answer. Sometimes his irritability led him to explode in a furious anathema, mingled with horrible oaths; sometimes he assumed a tone of quiet but severe sarcasm. A troublesome patient, who only fancied himself ill, pestered him one day with inquiries as to what he should eat. “My directions on that point,” said Sir Richard, “will be few and simple: You must not eat the shovel, poker, or tongs, for they are hard of digestion; nor the bellows, for they are windy; but _any thing else you please_!” BEST UPPER LEATHER. The following _sound_ advice occurs in an almanack:--“If you wish to have a shoe of durable materials, you should make the upper leather of the mouth of a hard drinker; for that never lets in water.” DÆDALUS.