nterest was involved in the success of the readings, I
could not forbid his puffing them to some extent, as, if I did, he might
consider himself injured. "But," said I, while refusing the contribution
of any personal anecdotes to his forthcoming article, "take care what
you do in that line, for if you overdo it in the least, I will write an
article, myself, on my readings, showing up all their faults, and
turning them into ridicule as I do not believe any one else either would
or could. So puff just as quietly as you can." I rather think my agent
left me with the same opinion of my competency in business that Mr.
Macready had expressed as to my proficiency in my profession, namely,
that "I did not know the rudiments of it."

Mr. Mitchell, who from the first took charge of all my readings in
England, and was the very kindest, most considerate, and most courteous
of all managers, on one occasion, complaining bitterly to my sister of
the unreasonable objection I had to all laudatory advertisements of my
readings, said to her, with a voice and countenance of the most rueful
melancholy, and with the most appealing pathos, "Why, you know, ma'am,
it's really dreadful; you know, Mrs. Kemble won't even allow us to say
in the bills, _these celebrated readings_; and you know, ma'am, it's
really impossible to do with less; indeed it is! Why, ma'am, you know
even Morrison's pills are always advertised as _these celebrated
pills!_"--an illustration of the hardships of his case which my sister
repeated to me with infinite delight.

When I saw the shop-windows full of Lawrence's sketch of me, and knew
myself the subject of almost daily newspaper notices; when plates and
saucers were brought to me with small figures of me as Juliet and
Belvidera on them; and finally, when gentlemen showed me lovely
buff-colored neck-handkerchiefs which they had bought, and which had, as
I thought, pretty lilac-colored flowers all over them, which proved on
nearer inspection to be minute copies of Lawrence's head of me, I not
unnaturally, in the fullness of my inexperience, believed in my own
success.

I have since known more of the manufacture of public enthusiasm and
public triumphs, and, remembering to how many people it was a matter of
vital importance that the public interest should be kept alive in me,
and Covent Garden filled every night I played, I have become more
skeptical upon the subject.

Seeing lately a copy of my play of "Francis the F