ness touched me at a time when kindness and love
were rare from those of my own blood, and Theo and I agreed that our
child should be called after that single little friend of my paternal
race.

We wrote to acquaint our royal parents with the auspicious event, and
bravely inserted the child's birth in the Daily Advertiser, and the
place, Church Street, Lambeth, where he was born. "My dear," says Aunt
Bernstein, writing to me in reply to my announcement, "how could you
point out to all the world that you live in such a trou as that in
which you have buried yourself? I kiss the little mamma, and send a
remembrance for the child." This remembrance was a fine silk coverlid,
with a lace edging fit for a prince. It was not very useful: the price
of the lace would have served us much better, but Theo and Molly were
delighted with the present, and my eldest son's cradle had a cover as
fine as any nobleman's.

Good Dr. Heberden came over several times to visit my wife, and see that
all things went well. He knew and recommended to us a surgeon in the
vicinage, who took charge of her; luckily, my dear patient needed little
care, beyond that which our landlady and her own trusty attendant could
readily afford her. Again our humble precinct was adorned with the
gilded apparition of Lady Castlewood's chariot wheels; she brought a pot
of jelly, which she thought Theo might like, and which, no doubt, had
been served at one of her ladyship's banquets on a previous day. And
she told us of all the ceremonies at court, and of the splendour and
festivities attending the birth of the august heir to the crown; Our
good Mr. Johnson happened to pay me a visit on one of those days when
my lady countess's carriage flamed up to our little gate. He was not a
little struck by her magnificence, and made her some bows, which were
more respectful than graceful. She called me cousin very affably, and
helped to transfer the present of jelly from her silver dish into our
crockery pan with much benignity. The Doctor tasted the sweetmeat, and
pronounced it to be excellent. "The great, sir," says he, "are fortunate
in every way. They can engage the most skilful practitioners of the
culinary art, as they can assemble the most amiable wits round their
table. If, as you think, sir, and, from the appearance of the dish,
your suggestion at least is plausible, this sweetmeat may have appeared
already at his lordship's table, it has been there in good company. It