Seymour, whom Thackeray wished to succeed as artist to Pickwick; he embodied Pickwick as did Phiz,'Hablot Browne,—Messrs. Quilp, and Pecksniff, and Micky Free, and whose steeplechasing Irish cocktails we all know and relish ; but his manner is too much ; for him and for us, and his ideas are neither deep nor copious, hence everlasting and weak repetitions of himself. Kenny Meadows, with more genius, especially for fiends and all eldritch fancies, and still more mannerism. Sibson,-and Hood, whose drawings were quaint and queer enough, but his words better. and queerer. Thackeray, very great, answering wonderfully his own idea. We wonder that his Snobs and Modern Novelists and miscellaneous papers were ever published without his own cuts. What would Mrs. Perkins's Ball be without The Mulligan, as the spreadeagle, frantic and glorious, doing the mazurka, without Miss Bunion, and them all; and the good little Nightingale, in Dr. Birch, singing Home, Sweet Home' to that premature young brute Hewlett. But we have already recorded our estimate of Mr. Thackeray's worth as an artist; and all his drolleries and quaint bits of himself,-his comic melancholy, his wistful children, his terrific soldans in the early Punches. They should all be collected,-whereever he escapes from his pen to his pencil, they should never be divorced. Then Doyle, with his

1 North British Review. No. lxxix., February 1864.

wealth of dainty phantasies, his glamourie, his won derful power of expressing the weird and uncanny, his fairies and goblins, his enchanted castles and maidens, his plump caracolling pony chargers, his charm of colour and of unearthly beauty in his watercolours. No one is more thoroughly himself and alone than Doyle. We need only name his father, H. B.,' the master of gentlemanly, political satire,—as Gillray was of brutal. Tenniel we still have, excellent, careful, and often strong and effective; but more an artist and a draughtsman than a genius or a humorist.

John Leech is different from all these, and, taken as a whole, surpasses them all, even Cruikshank, and seats himself next, though below, William Hogarth. Well might Thackeray, in his delightful notice of his friend and fellow-Carthusian in The Quarterly, say, 'There is no blinking the fact that in Mr. Punch's cabinet John Leech is the righthand man. Fancy a number of Punch without Leech's pictures! What would you give for it?' This was said ten years ago. How much more true it is now! We don't need to fancy it any longer! And yet, doubtless, nature is already preparing some one else—she is for ever filling her horn-whom we shall never think better, or in his own way, half so good, but who like him will be, let us trust, new and true, modest, and good; let us, meanwhile, rest and be thankful, and look back on the past. We'll move

on by and by-'to fresh fields and pastures new'— we suppose and hope.

We are not going to give a biography, or a studied appraisement of this great artist; that has been already well done in the Cornhill,-and we trust the mighty 'J. O.' who knew him and loved him as a brother, and whose strong and fine hand-its truth, nicety, and power-we think we recognise in an admirable short notice of Leech as one of the Men of Mark,' in the London Journal of May 31, 1862—may employ his leisure in giving us a memorial of his friend. No one could do it better, not even the judicious Tom Taylor, and it is worth his while, to go down the great stream side by side with such a man. All that we shall now do is to give some particulars, not, so far as we know, given to the public, and end with some remarks on a few selected woodcuts from Punchillustrative of his various moods and gifts.1

1 When the history of the rise and progress of Punch comes to be written, it will be found that the Weekly Dinner has been one of the chief things which contributed to its success. Almost from the foundation of that journal it has been the habit of the contributors every Wednesday to dine together. In the winter months, the dinner is usually held in the front room of the first floor of No. 11 Bouverie Street, Whitefriars,— the business offices of the proprietors, Messrs. Bradbury and Evans. Sometimes these dinners are held at the Bedford Hotel, Covent Garden. During the summer months, it is customary to have ten or twelve dinners at places in the neighbourhood of London, Greenwich, Richmond, Blackwall, etc. And once a year they attend the annual dinner of the firm, at

John Leech, we believe remotely of Irish extraction, was a thoroughly London boy, though never one whit of a Cockney in nature or look. He was born in 1817, being thus six years younger than Thackeray, both of them Charterhouse boys. We rejoice to learn that Lord Russell has, in the kindest way, given to Mr. Leech's eldest boy a presentation to this famous school, where so many of the best men of London birth have had their training, as Brougham and Jeffrey, Scott and Cockburn, had a the Edinburgh High School. This gift of our Foreign Minister is twice blessed, and is an act the country may well thank him for.

which compositors, readers, printers, machinemen, clerks, etc., dine. This dinner is called the 'Way Goose,' and is often referred to in Punch.

At the weekly dinner, the contents of the forthcoming number of Punch are discussed. When the cloth is removed, and dessert is laid on the table, the first question put by the editor is, 'What shall the Cartoon be?'

During the lifetimes of Jerrold and Thackeray, the discussions after dinner ran very high, owing to the constitutional antipathy existing between these two. Jerrold being the oldest, as well as the noisiest, generally came off victorious. In these rows it required all the suavity of Mark Lemon (and he has a great deal of that quality) to calm the storm; his award always being final.

The third edition of Wednesday's Sun is generally brought in to give the latest intelligence, so as to bring the Cartoon down to the latest date. On the Thursday morning following, the editor calls at the houses of the artists to see what is being done. On Friday night all copy is delivered and put into type.

When between six and seven years of age, some of Leech's drawings were seen by the great Flaxman, and, after carefully looking at them and the boy, he said, 'That boy must be an artist; he will be nothing else or less.' This was said in full consciousness of what is involved in advising such a step. His father wisely, doubtless, thought otherwise, and put him to the medical profession at St. Bartholomew's, under Mr. Stanley. He was very near being sent to Edinburgh, and apprenticed to Sir George Ballingall. If he had come to us then, he would have found one student, since famous, with whom he would have. cordialised Edward, afterwards Professor Forbes,

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and at two o'clock on Saturday proofs are revised, the forms made up, and with the last movement of the engine, the whole of the type is placed under the press, which cannot be moved until the Monday morning, when the steam is again up. This precaution is taken to prevent waggish tricks on the part of practical-joking compositors.

At these dinners none but those connected with the staff proper are permitted to attend; the only occasional exceptions, we believe, have been Sir Joseph Paxton, Mr. Layard, Charles Dickens, Rev. Reynolds Hole, and Charles Dickens, junior. As an illustration of the benefit arising from these meetings, we may mention that Jerrold always used to say, 'It is no use any of us quarrelling, because next Wednesday must come round with its dinner, when we will all have to shake hands again.' By means of these meetings, the discussions arising on all questions helped both caricaturist and wit to take a broad view of things, as well as enabled the editor to get his team to draw well together, and give a uniformity of tone to all the contributions. [1865.]