resources, devised within herself a means by which it might be done otherwise.  Having heard of the great fame of Sir Joshua Reynolds, his character for generosity, and charity, and recollecting that he had formerly belonged to the Plympton school, she, without mentioning a syllable to any of her companions, addressed a letter to Sir Joshua, whom she had never even seen, in which she represented to him the forlorn state of the poor governess’s wardrobe, and begged the gift of a silk gown for her.  Very shortly after, they received a box containing silks of different patterns, sufficient for two dresses, to the infinite astonishment of the simple governess, who was totally unable to account for this piece of good fortune, as the compassionate girl was afraid to let her know the means she had taken in order to procure the welcome present.”—­P. 307.

Mr Duyes, the artist, says—­“malice has charged him with avarice, probably from his not having been prodigal, like too many of his profession; his offer to me proves the contrary.  At the time that I made the drawings of the King at St Paul’s after his illness, Reynolds complimented me handsomely on seeing them, and afterwards observed, that the labour bestowed must have been such, that I could not be remunerated from selling them; but if I would publish them myself, he would lend me the money necessary, and engage to get me a handsome subscription among the nobility.”—­P. 35l.

We will here mention an anecdote which we believe has never been published; we heard it from our excellent friend, and enthusiastic admirer of all that taste, good sense, and good feeling should admire and love, in art or out of it—­now far advanced in years, and, like Sir Joshua, blind, but full of enjoyment and conversation fresh as ever upon art, for he remembers and hears, beloved by all who know him, G. Cumberland, Esq., author of “Outlines,” &c. &c.  He it was who recommended Collins, the miniature-painter, to Sir Joshua.  Now poor Collins was one of the most nervous of men, morbidly distrustful of himself and his powers.  Our friend showed us a portrait of Collins, painted by himself, the very picture of most sensitive nervousness.  Well—­Collins waited upon Sir Joshua, who gave him a picture to copy for him in miniature.  Collins took it, and trembled, and looked all diffidence as he examined Sir Joshua’s original.  However, he took it home with him, and after some time came to Cumberland in great agitation, expressing a conviction that he never could copy it, that he had destroyed three attempts, and this, said he, is the best I can do, and I will destroy it.  This Cumberland would not allow, and took possession of it, and an admirable performance it is.  Soon another was done, and Collins took it to Sir Joshua, with many timid expressions and apologies for his inability, that he feared displeasure for having undertaken a work above him.  Sir Joshua looked at it, declared it to be, as it was, a most excellent copy, and gave him more to do in the same way—­telling him to go to his scrutoire, open a drawer, and he would find some guineas, and to take out twenty to pay himself.  “Twenty guineas!” said Collins, “I should not have thought of receiving more than three!” This kindness and liberality set up poor Collins with a better stock of self-confidence, and he made his way to celebrity in his line, and to fortune.