, let us quote the names of a few wise and good men, who
have been proverbial for the goodness of their tempers; as Shakspeare,
Francis I., and Henry IV. of France; "the great and good Lord
Lyttleton," as he is called to the present day; John Howard,
Goldsmith, Sir Samuel Romilly, Franklin, Thomson, the poet,
Sheridan,[2] and Sir Walter Scott. The late Sir William Curtis was
known to be one of the best tempered men of his day, which made him a
great favourite with the late king. I remember a little incident of
Sir William's good-nature, which occurred about a year after he had
been Lord Mayor. In alighting from his carriage, a little out of the
regular line, near the Mansion House, upon some day of festivity, he
happened inadvertently, with the skirts of his coat, to brush down a
few apples from a poor woman's stall, on the side of the pavement. Sir
William was in full dress, but instead of passing on with the hauteur
which characterizes so many of his aldermanic brethren, he set himself
to the task of assisting the poor creature to collect her scattered
fruit; and on parting, observing some of her apples were a little
soiled by the dirt, he drew his hand from his pocket and generously
gave her a shilling. This was too good an incident for John Bull to
lose: a crowd assembled, hurraed, and cried out, "Well done, Billy,"
at which the good-natured baronet looked back and laughed. How much
more pleasing is it to tell of such demeanour than of the foolish
pride of the late Sir John Eamer, who turned away one of his
travellers merely because he had in one instance used his bootjack.

[2] May we not, however, say the friendless Sheridan?

_The Author of "A Tradesman's Lays."_

* * * * *

Probably our correspondent may recollect Sir William and the orange,
at one of the contested City elections. A "greasy rogue" before the
hustings, seeing the baronet candidate take an orange from his pocket,
_put up_ for the fruit, with the cry "Give us that orange, Billy." Sir
William threw him the fruit, which the fellow had no sooner sucked
dry, than he began bawling with increased energy, "No Curtis," "No
Billy," etc. Such an ungrateful act would have soured even Seneca; but
Sir William merely gave a smile, with a good-natured shake of the
head. Sir William Curtis possessed a much greater share of shrewdness
and good sense than the vulgar ever gave him credit for. At the
Sessions' dinners, he would k