 St. Luke's day, he received from the president and several of the members, the most extravagant marks

of applause. He thought therefore he could not do a more eligible thing than to begin his scientific career by sending a couple of pictures to the next exhibition, with a modest price affixed to them, by way of advertisement, that he meant in future to resort to painting, among other things, for a maintenance.
The pictures were accompanied by a respectful letter to the president—who, he doubted not, would do him justice—intreating to be considered in future as a common, and not an honourary, exhibiter.
This done, he waited with impatience for the success of his stratagem. The exhibition was adadvertised, our hero received his ticket of admission, and repaired to the place, where, for twenty minutes, he could not find either of his pictures. He tumbled over the catalogue, which eased him of half his fear—for he had fancied they were both rejected—by informing him that one of his performances was certainly in some part of one of the rooms. Vainly however did he search for a considerable while, till at length, being upon the point of giving the matter up, elevating his sight, in a nook, close to the sky-light, he fancied he had discovered the object of his perquisition.

The picture however was scarcely known to him, though he had painted it; for one single streak of light fell upon it at the right hand corner at the top, which gleamed towards the centre, where it rested in a speck; while a sudden shadow, occasioned by the projection of the chimney piece, cut it across from the left hand corner at top to the right hand corner at bottom, forming an angle with one half of the frame. In short, it had exactly the effect of a looking glass, badly painted, in a chamber scene for the theatre, which idea must occur to every reader.
This was not all: Had either of the pictures been seen alone, it could not possibly have had the smallest effect, for they appertained to each other like question and answer. Charles therefore saw it was an affront, and was more strongly confirmed in this when he found his other picture tossed about with a hole in it. Upon an application for redress, he was told he might take away his daubings, if he disliked their situation.
Charles could not conceive how it could happen that professors of a liberal art knew so little of the manners of gentlemen; but, since he found it so, he resolved to shew them he could
