ew--you wot the Israelite upon Change--Master Daniels--a contemplative
Hebrew-- to the which guess I was the rather led, by the consideration
that most of his nation are great readers--

Nothing is so common as to see them in the Jews' Walk, with a bundle of
script in one hand, and the Man of Feeling, or a volume of Sterne, in
the other--

I am a rogue if I can collect what manner of face thou carriest, though
thou seemest so familiar with mine--If I remember, thou didst not dimly
resemble the man Daniels, whom at first I took thee for--a care-worn,
mortified, economical, commercio-political countenance, with an
agreeable limp in thy gait, if Elia mistake thee not. I think I sh'd
shake hands with thee, if I met thee.

[John Bates Dibdin, the son of Charles Dibdin the younger and grandson
of the great Charles Dibdin, was at this time a young man of about
twenty-four, engaged as a clerk in a shipping office in the city. I
borrow from Canon Ainger an interesting letter from a sister of Dibdin
on the beginning of the correspondence:--

My brother ... had constant occasion to conduct the giving or taking of
cheques, as it might be, at the India House. There he always selected
"the little clever man" in preference to the other clerks. At that time
the _Elia Essays_ were appearing in print. No one had the slightest
conception who "Elia" was. He was talked of everywhere, and everybody
was trying to find him out, but without success. At last, from the style
and manner of conveying his ideas and opinions on different subjects, my
brother began to suspect that Lamb was the individual so widely sought
for, and wrote some lines to him, anonymously, sending them by post to
his residence, with the hope of sifting him on the subject. Although
Lamb could not _know_ who sent him the lines, yet he looked very hard at
the writer of them the next time they met, when he walked up, as usual,
to Lamb's desk in the most unconcerned manner, to transact the necessary
business. Shortly after, when they were again in conversation, something
dropped from Lamb's lips which convinced his hearer, beyond a doubt,
that his suspicions were correct. He therefore wrote some more lines
(anonymously, as before), beginning--

"I've found thee out, O Elia!"

and sent them to Colebrook Row. The consequence was that at their next
meeting Lamb produced the lines, and after much laughing, confessed
himself to be _Elia_. This led to a warm friendsh