time the laugh of London.
Somebody at a dinner once asked him, whether he had seen any relics of
musical instruments among the Abyssinians, or any thing in the style of
the ancient sculptures of the Thebaid. "I think I saw one lyre there," was
the answer. "Ay," says Selwyn to his neighbour, "and that one left the
country along with him."

Selwyn did not always spare his friends. When Fox's pecuniary affairs were
in a state of ruin, and a subscription was proposed; one of the
subscribers said that their chief difficulty was to know "how Fox would
take it." Selwyn, who knew that necessity has nothing to do with
delicacies of this order, replied, "Take it, why, quarterly to be sure!"

Mr. Jesse's anecdotes are generally well told, but their version is
sometimes different from ours. Selwyn was one day walking up St James's
Street with Lord Pembroke, when a couple of sweeps brushed against them.
"Impudent rascals!" exclaimed Lord Pembroke. "The sovereignty of the
people," said Selwyn. "But such dirty dogs," said Pembroke. "Full dress
for the court of St Giles's," said Selwyn, with a bow to their sable
majesties.

But Selwyn, with all his affability and pleasantry, had his dislikes, and
among them was the celebrated Sheridan. The extraordinary talent and early
fame of that most memorable and unfortunate man, had fixed all eyes upon
him from the moment of his entering into public life; and Selwyn, who had
long sat supreme in wit, probably felt some fears for his throne. At all
events, he determined to keep one place clear from collision with this
dangerous wit; and, on every attempt to put up Sheridan's name for
admission into Brookes's, two black balls were found in the balloting-box,
one of which was traced to Selwyn, while the other was supposed to be that
of Lord Besborough. One ball being sufficient to exclude, the opposition
was fatal; but Fox and his friends were equally determined, on their side,
to introduce Sheridan; and for this purpose a curious, though not very
creditable, artifice was adopted. On the evening of the next ballot, and
while George and Lord Besborough were waiting, with their usual
determination, to blackball the candidate, a chairman in great haste
brought in a note, apparently from Lady Duncannon, to her father-in-law
Lord Besborough, to tell him that his house in Cavendish Square was on
fire, and entreating him to return without a moment's delay. His lordship
instantly quitted the room, and hur