[Here the manuscript becomes illegible for two or three sheets onwards, which we presume to be occasioned by the absence of Mr. Munden, jun., who clearly transcribed it for the press thus far.  The rest (with the exception of the concluding paragraph, which seemingly is resumed in the first handwriting) appears to contain a confused account of some lawsuit in which the elder Munden was engaged; with a circumstantial history of the proceedings on a case of breach of promise of marriage, made to or by (we cannot pick out which) Jemima Munden, spinster, probably the comedian’s cousin, for it does not appear he had any sister; with a few dates, rather better preserved, of this great actor’s engagements,—­as “Cheltenham, [spelt Cheltnam,] 1776,” “Bath, 1779,” “London, 1789,”—­together with stage-anecdotes of Messrs. Edwin, Wilson, Lee, Lewis, etc.; over which we have strained our eyes to no purpose, in the hope of presenting something amusing to the public.  Towards the end, the manuscript brightens up a little, as we have said, and concludes in the following manner.]

——­ stood before them for six-and-thirty years, [we suspect that Mr. Munden is here speaking of his final leave-taking of the stage,] and to be dismissed at last.  But I was heart-whole,—­heart-whole to the last, Sir.  What though a few drops did course themselves down the old veteran’s cheeks? who could help it, Sir?  I was a giant that night, Sir, and could have played fifty parts, each as arduous as Dozey.  My faculties were never better, Sir.  But I was to be laid upon the shelf.  It did not suit the public to laugh with their old servant any longer, Sir. [Here some moisture has blotted a sentence or two.] But I can play Polonius still, Sir:  I can, I can.

    Your servant, Sir,
    JOSEPH MUNDEN.

* * * * *

In the “Reflector,” a short-lived periodical set up by Leigh Hunt, and in which Lamb’s quaint and beautiful poem, “A Farewell to Tobacco,” and his masterly critical essays on “The Tragedies of Shakspeare,” and on “The Genius of Hogarth,” and other of his early writings, appeared, I find the following characteristic article from Elia’s pen.

The reader will observe (and smile as he observes) that there is a great difference between the “good clerk” of fifty years ago and the “good clerk” of to-day.  He of yesterday is a wonderfully simple, humble, automaton-like person, in comparison with the brisk, dashing, independent “votaries of the desk” of the year eighteen hundred and sixty-four.

* * * * *

THE GOOD CLERK:  A CHARACTER.

THE GOOD CLERK.—­He writeth a fair and swift hand, and is competently versed in the four first rules of arithmetic, in the Rule of Three, (which is sometimes called the Golden Rule,) and in Practice.  We mention these things that we may leave no room for cavillers to say that anything essential hath been omitted in our definition; else, to speak the truth, these are but ordinary accomplishments, and such as every understrapper at a desk is commonly furnished with.  The character we treat of soareth higher.