(A) Heidegger's countenance was peculiarly unpleasing, from an unusual harshness of features. There is a mezzotint of him by J. Faber, 1742, from a painting by Vanloo, a striking likeness; and his face is introduced in more than one of Hogarth's prints.—Heidegger was, however, the first to joke upon his own ugliness; and he once laid a wager with the earl of Chesterfield, that within a certain given time his lordship would not be able to produce so hideous a face in all London. After strict search, a woman was found, whose features were at first thought stronger than Heidegger's; but upon clapping her head-dress upon himself, he was universally allowed to have won the wager. Jolly, a well-known taylor, carrying his bill to a noble duke; his grace, for evasion, said, "Damn your ugly face, I never will pay you till you bring me an uglier fellow than yourself!" Jolly bowed and retired, wrote a letter, and sent it by a servant to Heidegger; saying, "His grace wished to see him the next morning on particular business." Heidegger attended, and Jolly was there to meet him; and in consequence, as soon as Heidegger's visit was over, Jolly received the cash.

The late facetious duke of Montagu (the memorable author of the Bottle Conjurer at the theatre in the Haymarket) gave an entertainment at the Devil-tavern, Temple-bar, to several of the nobility and gentry, selecting the most convivial, and a few hard drinkers, who were all in the plot. Heidegger was invited, and in a few hours after dinner was made so dead drunk that he was carried out of the room, and laid insensible upon a bed. A profound sleep ensued; when the late Mrs Salmon's daughter was introduced, who took a mould from his face in plaster of Paris. From this a mask was made, and a few days before the next masquerade (at which the king promised to be present, with the countess of Yarmouth) the duke made application to Heidegger's valet-de-chambre, to know what suit of clothes he was likely to wear; and then procuring a similar dress, and a person of the same stature, he gave him his instructions. On the evening of the masquerade, as soon as his majesty was seated (who was always known by the conductor of the entertainment and the officers of the court, though concealed by his dress from the company), Heidegger, as usual, ordered the music to play "God save the king;" but his back was no sooner turned, than the false Heidegger ordered them to strike up "Charly o'er the water." The whole company