piece of bread and batter in his hand. A very clever woman, who
then lived in the house as parlour-maid, told how he used to sit
in his nankeen frock, perched on the table by her as she was
cleaning the plate, and expounding to her out of a volume as big
as himself. He did not care for toys, but was very fond of taking
his walk, when he would hold forth to his companion, whether
nurse or mother, telling interminable stories out of his own
head, or repeating what he had been reading in language far above
his years. His memory retained without shout effort the
phraseology of the book which he had been last engaged on, and he
talked, as the maid said, "quite printed words," which produced
an effect that appeared formal, and often, no doubt, exceedingly
droll. Mrs. Hannah More was fond of relating how she called at
Mr. Macaulay's, and was met by a fair, pretty, slight child, with
abundance of light hair, about four years of age, who came to the
front door to receive her, and tell her that his parents were
out, but that if she would be good enough to come in he would
bring her a glass of old spirits; a proposition which greatly
startled the good lady, who had never aspired beyond cowslip
wine. When questioned as to what he knew about old spirits, he
could only say that Robinson Crusoe often had some. About this
period his father took him on a visit to Lady Waldegrave at
Strawberry Hill, and was much pleased, to exhibit to his old
friend the fair bright boy, dressed in a green coat with red
cellar and cuffs, a frill at the throat, and white trousers.
After some time had been spent among the wonders of the Orford
Collection, of which he ever after carried a catalogue in his
head, a servant who was waiting upon the company in the great
gallery spilt some hot coffee over his legs. The hostess was all
kindness and compassion, and when, after a while, she asked how