A few theatrical anecdotes may close these lucubrations. Actors sometimes are strangely affected by their own parts. Betterton, although his countenance was ruddy, when he performed Hamlet, through the violent and sudden emotion of horror at the presence of his father’s spectre, instantly turned as white as his collar, whilst his whole body was affected by a strong tremor. When Booth the first time attempted the ghost, when Betterton acted Hamlet, that actor’s look at him struck him with such horror that he became disconcerted to such a degree that he could not speak his part. Of Mrs. Siddons, it was said that by the force of fancy and reflection, she used to be so wrought up in preparing to play Lady Constance in ’King John,’ that, when she set out from her own house to the theatre, she was already Constance herself. Smith—better known as ’Gentleman Smith’—married a sister of Lord Sandwich. For some time the union was kept concealed, but an apt quotation of Charles Bannister elicited the truth: ’"Art thou not Romeo, and a Montague!"’ said Bannister, when Foote bantered Smith on the subject. The latter was not proof against the sally, and acknowledged the marriage. ’Well,’ said Bannister, ’I rejoice that you have got a Sandwich from the family; but if ever you get a dinner from them, I’ll be hanged.’ The prophecy proved true. Michael Kelly was an English opera-singer, a musical composer, and at one time Sheridan’s manager at Drury Lane. He then went into the wine trade, when Sheridan advised him to put over his door: ’Michael Kelly, composer of wine, and importer of music.’ *VI.* *OLD JUDGES AND SOME OF THEIR SAYINGS.* When I was a little boy I drew most of my notions of life and mankind from the picture-books for my use and instruction. I thought that Kings and Queens wore their crowns and sceptres all day long, and took them to bed with them, for I had thus seen them in the pictures in the books. One engraving, I remember, I saw of a severe-looking gentleman, who had thrown a gray doormat over his head, and sat behind a little desk everlastingly writing away with an enormous quill pen. It was this quill pen which specially riveted my attention. I was always given a steel pen in my writing-lessons. Why not a quill? I asked my mother who the man was, and was told he was a judge, and that what I took for a door-mat was a wig which he wore to look dignified, and the great weight of which was, moreover, intended to prevent his great legal learning from evaporating through the pores of his skull, which was bald, but compelled it to come out through his mouth only.