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 Both Ebsworth's father and mother deserved longer memoirs than could be given to them in the great Dictionary. The father, Joseph, born in Islington on the 10th of March, 1788, was apprenticed to a watchmaker named Cornwall, and became a great expert, but his talents led him elsewhere. He had a singularly rich baritone voice, which he preserved to the last, and he joined the operatic company at Covent Garden; in addition he turned to dramatic authorship, and also acted in melodrama. On the 22nd of June, 1817, he married Mary Emma, daughter of Robert Fairbrother. She was born on the 2nd of September, 1794. Her father, who was a pantomimist and fencing-master, was a great friend of Sheridan, and, though he lost several thousands by him, would never allow a word to be said in his disparagement; he was also the schoolmate and friend of Mrs. Jordan.

When Ebsworth was two years old the family removed to Edinburgh, where his father at first held an engagement at the Theatre Royal; but on accepting the position of leader of the choir of St. Stephen's Church, he abandoned the theatrical profession, and established himself as a teacher of music and singing. He and his wife continued to write and translate dramas, but Ebsworth had no complete list of these. Some of his mother's works were published in John Cumberland's "Acting Drama."

In 1828 Ebsworth's father opened an "English and Foreign Dramatic Library and Caricature Repository" at Elm Row, just at the head of Leith Walk. It also became the chief shop for periodical literature. This shop was soon the resort of those who made Edinburgh worthy of the name of the Modern Athens. Scott and Prof. Wilson were among the most frequent callers to enjoy a chat. For both of these young Ebsworth soon came to have an affectionate regard. He has often spoken to me of his personal recollections of Sir Walter Scott, " that great and good old man," who would place his hand kindly on the boy's head, much to his delight. ' The Fair Maid of Perth ' was his " earliest known and loved romance," Ebsworth writes. " When I was beginning my fifth year in 1828 I already had heard my father read aloud Lytton Bulwer's ' Pelham,' then newly published; also ' Don Quixote ' and Defoe's 'Journal of the Plague Year 1665,' before I was yet able to read for myself. What a world of books," he continues, " I have traversed since then, and laid to heart rememberingly! Few have loved them so well, and for five out of six years I stinted myself of food for my dinners, by purchasing out of my savings books at dear old Cadell's shop in St. Andrew's Square, often in his presence and under his gracious protection, with dozens of copies spread on the broad counter, for me to choose the best impressions of the steel frontispieces, because I was an engraver and enthusiastic lover of Sir Walter, whose statue by Greenlees stood before me, 'sic sedebat.' The 'Abbotsford Edition of the