had some 'good talk' about the good old times of
acting. I wanted to insinuate that I had been a sneaking admirer, but
could not bring it in. As, however, we were putting on our greatcoats
downstairs I ventured to break the ice by saying, 'There is one actor of
that period of whom we have not made honourable mention, I mean Master
Betty.' 'Oh!' he said, 'I have forgot all that.' I replied, that he
might, but that I could not forget the pleasure I had had in seeing him.
On which he turned off, and, shaking his sides heartily, and with no
measured demand upon his lungs, called out, 'Oh, memory! memory!' in
a way that showed he felt the full force of the allusion. I found
afterwards that the subject did not offend, and we were to have drunk
some Burton ale together the following evening, but were prevented. I
hope he will consider that the engagement still stands good.

(4) Sir Joshua, who was not a vain man, purchased a tawdry sheriff's
carriage, soon after he took his house in Leicester Fields, and desired
his sister to ride about in it, in order that people might ask, 'Whose
it was?' and the answer would be, 'It belongs to the great painter!'

(5) Sharp became a great favourite of the king on the following
occasion. It was the custom, when the king went through the lobbies of
the palace, for those who preceded him to cry out, 'Sharp, sharp, look
sharp!' in order to clear the way. Mr. Sharp, who was waiting in a room
just by (preparing some colours), hearing his name repeated so urgently,
ran out in great haste, and came up with all his force against the king,
who was passing the door at the time. The young artist was knocked down
in the encounter, and the attendants were in the greatest consternation;
but the king laughed heartily at the adventure, and took great notice of
the unfortunate subject of it from that time forward.

ESSAY XV. ON THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHARACTER

It is astonishing, with all our opportunities and practice, how little
we know of this subject. For myself, I feel that the more I learn, the
less I understand it.

I remember, several years ago, a conversation in the diligence coming
from Paris, in which, on its being mentioned that a man had married
his wife after thirteen years' courtship, a fellow-countryman of
mine observed, that 'then, at least, he would be acquainted with her
character'; when a Monsieur P----, inventor and proprietor of the
_Invisible Girl,_ made answer, 'No, not at all;