thought the match they had proposed a very good
one, and had resolved that, while under her care,
the wilful child should not throw herself away on
any one of inferior pretensions.
"That unknown is nice, is he not?" asked Mary,
after they had returned home. "I was so sorry I
was not able to dance with him."
"O Mary! I never met any one half so nice; so
gentle, so unboastful, and reserved about himself
and his own doings, and yet so full of interesting
stories, when you once draw him out; I could listen
to him forever."

"Desdemona?" whispered Mary.

Home they went, only a few steps off, and sat down to discuss the matter.

"The more I think of it," said Mrs. Leslie, after trying hard for a few minutes to compose her countenance so as to harmonize with the grave displeasure which Blanche's had assumed, "the more inexplicable it seems, or at least the more I am persuaded that the whole affair is simply accidental. He can't have had time, can he, to have gone back to England, seen his father and mother, found you fled, and rushed here after you? Only think how rapidly we travelled; it is impossible."

They probably wrote to him at Malta," said Blanche.

No time," said Mrs. Leslie. "What was the date of his arrival, Mary, did you notice?" "There was no date, mamma, of that; only Hôtel

"My dear," said Mrs. Leslie, with something almost sharp in her voice, “all soldiers are like that. If you had waited to see Herbert Beresford, as you ought, I have no doubt he would have been just the same. I always heard he was particularly agree-d'Angleterre." able."

"Did you ask your friend if he knew Colonel Beresford?" inquired Mary.

"Not I," said Blanche, impatiently; "we had something better to talk about.'

Mrs. Leslie felt slightly anxious, but she knew her métier of chaperon better than to let it appear; so she chattered, and let the girls chatter as fast as they pleased, while they drank their tea, and then sent them off to bed.

"I shall write to Lady Beresford, and advise her to send Herbert out here, if he falls into the plan." Such was her ultimatum, as she laid her head on the pillow in the gray dawn of morning.

"Now, mamma," said Mary, after a very late breakfast, "let us run across to Piale's and discover our incognito."

The unenlightened in Roman ways must be informed that Piale is a bookseller in the Piazza di Spagna, and that on his table lies a book where most of the English visitors inscribe their names.

"Now let me see," said Mary, while Blanche looked over her shoulder.

"Captain Smith; no, he can't be Captain Smith, can he, mamma?"

A sudden exclamation from Mary startled them, and she pointed where, much lower down on the list, stood in characters unmistakably legible the name of Lieut.-Col. Honorable Herbert Beresford."

The ladies looked at one another petrified. Mrs. Leslie and Mary could scarcely keep their countenances, but Blanche was in towering indignation.

"This is too bad," she said, the tears starting into her eyes; "they have positively sent him after me. I call this downright persecution. I will never be introduced to him,-never!"

My dear, Piale will hear you," whispered Mrs. Leslie," and you will be the talk of Rome. No one shall tease you while you are with me; but it won't hurt you to meet the young man in society like any one else. Come home, and don't be silly, and we 'll think what we had better do."

"Oh! then," said Blanche, "we will ask Major Cresswell about him when he comes this evening, as he is at the same hotel."

At that moment Mary started, as a sudden thought struck her; and shot a very significant glance at her mother, who responded to it by a rapid gesture enforcing silence as to the idea which had evidently occurred to both minds at once.

It is very impertinent," said poor Blanche, "and exceedingly annoying."

66

'My dear," said Mary, "you cannot complain that your enemy has been very aggressive. Surely he might have called on mamma, if he had chosen it, so old a friend of his family."

Perhaps he is only just arrived," interrupted Blanche. I know all my pleasure in Rome is

gone now."

"Not quite, I hope; but come, I see your head is aching; let me bathe it with some eau de Cologne, or you will not be fit to see Major Cresswell this evening."

IV.

IN the evening the ladies were all, for various reasons, in a state of some trepidation, as they took their seats in their salon after their late dinner, and began to expect the arrival of their guest. Mary was excellent on such occasions, and so, indeed, was Blanche too, generally, but just now she was more unhinged than usual, and felt quite grateful to Mary when she proposed their drowning their anxieties in a rattling duet.

In spite of the rattle, however, they kept their ears open, and at the first ring of their door-bell stopped with one accord.

A card was brought in,

"Lieut.-Colonel Beresford"; and at the same moment entered its owner, who proved to be no other than the hero of the Magra.

At the first instant there was an awkward, takenaback pause; but it was only for an instant.

"So you are Colonel Beresford?" said Mrs. Leslie, as she saw that he looked rather surprised at his reception. "We have been to-day searching Piale's book to ascertain your identity: we settled that you could not be Captain Smith, but that you might be Major Cresswell, and, I can scarcely tell why, but you were established in our minds as Major Cresswell, which made us start when you were introduced by another name."

Colonel Beresford laughed at the explanation, and confessed that he had been in something of a similar puzzle, but that Piale's had not occurred to him: in fact he had not put his own name there,

"It is very odd indeed," said Mrs. Leslie, "that he should suspect nothing. I suppose his mother is so glad that he happens to have turned up in Rome, that she has the wit at last to hold her tongue, as I have written to urge her to do."

some one had done it for him. He had forgotten | and her mother; as to Blanche, she very soon bethe number Mrs. Leslie had told him, but had been came mute on everything connected with Colonel directed to the apartment of the Signora Inglese Beresford. with the dua bellissime signorina, and had only acquired a distinct idea of her name just this moment, from the card nailed up outside her door. These mutual explanations proved altogether satisfactory, and set all parties at ease. The evening passed off delightfully, chiefly in music; Mary's clever playing and Blanche's beautiful singing were thoroughly appreciated, and when, towards the end, the party became increased by several Italians dropping in, Mrs. Leslie observed, and this time with unalloyed satisfaction, that Colonel Beresford took advantage of every opportunity for talking apart with Blanche.

"It is a pity," he said, in taking leave, “that Cresswell should lose the great pleasure of your acquaintance, because he does not happen to be me; may I bring him? I can answer for his being a very nice fellow."

"O certainly," said Mrs. Leslie; "we are always at home in the evening till nine o'clock."

When he was gone, the three ladies gathered round the hearth and put on more wood, as preparing for a talk; but for a few moments all sat silent. Blanche, my dear," at last said Mrs. Leslie, "this man's being here is pure accident; nothing else, depend upon it. There has been no time for communication with the people at home: besides, they promised me faithfully you should not be molested."

"But how can it be that it never occurs to him, her name being Blanche, too?"

"That is the thing, I suspect; the Beresfords, you know, never call her Blanche, but Lina, from her second name, Caroline, on account of their having a Blanche of their own, Lady Devereux. I dare say they always wrote of Lina Leslie, if they ever wrote to him about her at all."

"I see: well; it is manifest enough how things are going: all's well that ends well."

"All's well that ends well," echoed her mother, kissing her forehead, with a secret prayer that all may end well for her also, of which there seemed every probability.

One beautiful evening in March Mrs. Leslie and her young ladies went with a few friends to see the Coliseum by moonlight, and Colonel Beresford and Major Cresswell were, as usual, of the party. As soon as Colonel Beresford arrived, it was manifest, to Blanche at least, that something was the matter, for a cloud sat on his brow, usually so clear and open, and he seemed uncomfortable and abstracted, very unlike himself. However, he took his accustomed place by her side, and appeared more anx

"O, as to that, mamma," interrupted Mary, "heious even than usual to converse with her as much may have found out that Blanche was here, and come of his own accord, without consulting any one. It certainly strikes me as strange, in so amiable a person as he seems to be, coming here to enjoy himself instead of going home to see his father and mother. Don't you remember he said something at that table d'hôte of having gone as far as Marseilles, homewards, and then turned back?"

"I am quite sure," said Blanche, "that, be all that as it may, he has no idea that I am myself; he takes us for sisters."

“Well, well,” said Mrs. Leslie, "no freeborn Englishwoman can be married against her will. You are safe here with me, and he is a very pleasant person, and will do to sing and dance with, if you don't choose to marry him. And now go to bed, child, or you'll lose your roses, and then you'll have to submit to being married for your money after all."

V.

apart as circumstances allowed. As the whole party, divided into twos and threes, wandered about in the moonlight, it was not difficult to secure a sufficient tête-à-tête for confidential conversation; but it was long before either spoke. At last, as with an effort, "I am afraid," he said, "that to-night I must wish you good by."

"Good by?"

Exactly; it made me feel what a brute I have been; and so I'm off."

Blanche dared not trust herself to speak; and he went on.

"But I cannot go without asking if I may ever hope to meet you again. I think you must have seen, you can scarcely have mistaken my feelings. Only just tell me if I may come back again; when I have seen my father and mother, may I come back to you? In short, can you give me any hope?

ONE evening after another passed very pleasantly. Major Cresswell was introduced, and proved to be a very superior man, in Mary's opinion at least, and her opinion luckily was right, and he appeared to consider her a very delightful young lady. Morning engagements grew out of evening ones; visits to picture-galleries, riding-parties in the Campagna, and, as the days lengthened and brightened, expeditions to Frascati and Albano and Tivoli, all the spring pleasures so well known to those who have had the privilege of enjoying a season in Rome. The Misses Leslie were much sought after, but by none so assiduously as by Major Cresswell and Colonel Beresford. This last soon discovered, what no one attempted to conceal, that the two girls were not sisters, but cousins; yet he evidently had no "But, Colonel Beresford," said Blanche, at last, idea that the Miss Leslie in Rome and the Miss rallying all her dignity, "I must not let you go Leslie, his father's ward, were identical. This was without explaining everything. I do not know, but often discussed as a matter of wonder between Mary | I think you have not found out who I am."

What Blanche's answer was we will not inquire; indeed, it might be reported as 66 inaudible in the gallery." Whatever it was, however, it seemed to give satisfaction, for the Colonel's next observation, after a inoment or two of entranced silence, was that "he was too happy."

April 28, 1966)

"Who you are? Blanche, my own Blanche, | smote his obstinate ass." "Ass!" retorted the quesI hope. What can you mean?

"You know about Lina Leslie, your father's ward." "Well?"

"Is it possible?' He stopped short and gazed in her face; and, in spite of the depths of sentiment in which they were plunged, they both burst into a hearty laugh.

66

Well, that is a dénouement. My Blanche and Lina Leslie one and the same! My Blanche, I must tell you that Lina has been my nightmare, my dread, my bête noire; it was to escape marrying you that I came here instead of going home."

"And it was to escape marrying you that I came here."

"Is it possible? I had no idea that they had spoken of you. I got letters at Marseilles, urging me to hurry home and secure this wonderful heiress, about whom they had been boring my life out already; so I turned about at once, and sailed back to Genoa in the very first packet."

"They told me I was to marry you; so I set off at once, and ran away here with my aunt and

Very true," said the Colonel, "and therefore do you not think that we are bound to make what reparation we can by carrying out our parents' wishes as soon as possible?'

tioner; why, Scripture does not mention that Balaam had a sword, but only that he wished for one." O, sir," was the ready reply, "this is the very sword which Balaam désired to have!" Without laying too much stress upon the authenticity of this sword, we can offer satisfactory proof that England possesses a genuine relic of antiquity, fully six eenturies older than the age of Balaam, which the late Baron Bunsen justly declared to be "the oldest royal and human remains to which a date can be assigned in the world." In a large glass case, standing in one of the upper chambers of our great National Museum, is to be seen the skeleton, decently encased in its original burial clothes, of one Pharaoh Mykerinus, and surrounded by fragments of the coffin, whereon the name of its occupant can be easily read by the Egyptologists of the present day; affording thereby conclusive evidence that it once contained the mummy of a king who was reigning in Egypt more than a century before the time of Abrahain.

The proof of this may be thus explained. About two years ago, Herr Dümichen, a German explorer of the monuments of Egypt, following up the indications pointed out by M. Mariette, a distinguished archæologist, discovered on the buried walls of the Temple of Osiris, at Abydos, a large tablet containing the names of the ancient Pharaohs from the time of Mizraim, the grandson of Noah and founder of the Egyptian monarchy, unto that of Pharaoh Seti I., the father of the well-known Rameses the Great, including thereby the chronology of nine centuries; viz. from B. C. 2,300 to B. C. 1,400. This historical tablet, by far the most important ever yet discovered, may be compared to the sculptured figures of the kings of England at the Crystal Palace, from William the Conqueror to her Majesty Queen Victoria, which we presume, will afford sufficient evidence to the wanderer from New Zealand, when in the year of grace 1966 he may be exploring the ruins of ancient London, of the order of the succession of the monarchs of England.

All parties being at last agreed, there was nothing to wait for but the arrangements of lawyers and dressmakers. These, however, a splendid for- Astronomical evidence, moreover, enables us to tune and proportionately splendid trousseau being determine the time of two important epochs in the in question, were sufficiently tardy, or at least history of Egypt, one of which is connected with would have been, but that Major Cresswell's regi- our present subject. Sir John Herschel has fixed ment was unexpectedly ordered to Corfu. Major the age of the Great Pyramid of Ghizeh to the Cresswell would not depart without Mary, by this middle of the twenty-second century, B. C. The time his promised bride, and Blanche would not tablet of Abydos shows that the Pharaoh whose hear of being married without Mary for her brides- bones we now possess succeeded the builder of the maid. So settlements and lace-flounces had to be Great Pyramid, with only two intervening kings. expedited, and early in the month of June Blanche The tropical cycle has been calculated by the Asbecame, what she had so often vowed she would tronomer Royal at B. C. 2,005, a date which coinrather die than become, the wife of Herbert Beres-cides with Abraham's sojourn in that country. We ford.

And now eight years have passed, and neither party has repented; they can scarcely even regret the folly of their mutual avoidance, as it brought about so satisfactory a result, though they are quite ready to laugh at each other and at themselves, and to tell their little ones the story of their "much ado about nothing."

THE OLDEST RELIC IN THE WORLD. THERE is an anecdote on record of some English visitors to one of the continental churches which boasted of its relics, having been shown a very old sword as one of its rarest treasures. "What is this?" asked one of the party. "That sword, sir," said the custodian, "is the one with which Balaam

are therefore warranted in assuming that the remains of Pharaoh Mykerinus belong to the age to which we have assigned them. About forty years ago, the Pyramids of Ghizeh were explored under the direction of Colonel Howard Vyse, whose work affords much valuable information to any one interested in the subject of Egyptian archæology. As he was not present when these identical remains were discovered, he gives the account of their being found in the words of his superintendent, who thus minutely records the details:

"By your request I send you the particulars of the finding of the bones, mummy-cloth, and parts of the coffin in the third pyramid. In clearing the rubbish out of the large entrance room, after the men had been employed there several days and had advanced some distance towards the S. E. corner,

some bones were first discovered all together, and | ures of all the realms of nature, and the most exno parts of the coffin or bones could be found in the alted remains of human art. May its rest never be room. I therefore had the rubbish, which had been disturbed, so long as the stream of history shall roll previously turned out of the same room, carefully on!" re-examined, when several pieces of the coffin and the mummy were found. There was about three feet of rubbish on the top of the lid ; and from the fact of the bones and part of the coffin being all found together, it appeared as if the coffin had been brought to that spot, and there unpacked."

It is known that the Saracens broke into and plundered the Pyramids during the thirteenth century of the Christian era. Edrisi, an Arabian author of repute, who gives an account of the opening of the third Pyramid, on the authority of one who was present on the occasion, says: "After they had worked at it for six months with axes, in great numbers, hoping to find treasure, they came at last, to a long blue basin. When they had broken the covering of it, they found nothing but the decayed, rotten remains of a man, but no treasures by his side, excepting some golden tablets, inscribed with characters of a language nobody could understand. Each man's share of the profits of these amounted to one hundred dinars."

FOREIGN NOTES.

THE Journal pour Tous is publishing a French version of "Oliver Twist," with some very admirable illustrations.

SOMEBODY in Leipzig has invented a check for runaway horses. A supplemental rein is attached to the outer side of the curb of each horse, and these united are led along the pole through conductors, and so brought within reach, by coming up through a hole in the bottom of the footboard. When the horses get beyond control with the ordinary reins, this is used, and by pulling it, each horse's head is wrenched outward, and they are left to waste their strength in pulling against each other.

Théophile Gautier wrote in September, 1831, addressed to the young sculptor, Jean Duseigneur, whose name figured in the doings of the Rencontre school about that time, and who has just died, leaving behind him no specimens of his skill more remarkable than his bust of Gautier himself, and that of Victor Hugo.

L'Univers Illustré says that the French Academy are thinking of making the ceremonies of their bicentennial anniversary take place at Paris, next "The golden tablets," inscribed in an unknown year, at the time of the great exhibition. The same language, were of course carried off by the plunder-paper publishes for the first time some verses, which ers, who, though unable to comprehend the mysteries of hieroglyphics, well understood that universal tongue which has been the circulating medium of all ages and all people from the beginning of the world. "The long blue basin," in other words the sarcophagus, which once held the coffin of King Mykerinus, remained in its original position, until six centuries later the explorations of Colonel Vyse took place. The sarcophagus was then found to be composed of basalt, which bore a fine polish of a mixed blue and brown color. The exterior was very beautifully carved in compartments, not unlike the Doric style, which confirms the opinion that Grecian architecture owes its origin to Egypt.

Unfortunately, the ship containing this beautiful tomb was wrecked off the coast of Spain, and thus what was destined for England became irrecoverably lost in the depths of the sea. But its more precious contents, which Edrisi so ignobly describes as "the decayed, rotten remains of a man," and which are in reality the veritable bones of good King Mykerinus, whose interesting history proves him to have been one of the best and greatest of the ancient Pharaohs, are visible to the present generation; in the estimation of some, the most valuable, as they certainly are the most ancient, of all the archæological treasures contained in the British Museum.

IF, during a recent sale, a stranger had entered the auction-room of that house in Leicester Square where Sir Joshua Reynolds formerly resided, he would probably have experienced very considerable surprise at the appearance of the place and the proceedings going on. If, too, he had been informed

that the scores and hundreds of dresses and garments which hung in every direction were the spoil from some Eastern city which had been sacked, he might very well have believed the statement. The sale of the theatrical wardrobe of the late Royal English Opera Company was taking place, and costumes of every conceivable kind were being knocked down to a small knot of people-half Christian, half Jew— who appeared to treat these gorgeous and spangled clothes in a very matter-of-fact sort of way. There were harlequins' suits, clowns' suits, and thrillinglysensational demons' garments, which could be purchased complete by any aspirant to histrionic fame for 25s. each, or at least not more than 30s. The dresses of forty beautiful fairies realized only 5s. 6d.; The gods of Egypt have long passed away, the and a magnificent Charles II. suit, ruffled and laced, tombs of her kings have been rifled, "son of brought only 50s. The wardrobe was very strong Pharaoh" has become a byword and reproach in the in Chinese Mandarins' dresses, all fully padded, and land which once was ruled by the greatest monarchs doublets and jerkins could be had by the dozen. of antiquity, but which no longer possesses a prince Eight tights in a lot" was a curious item to speenof its own, Egypt has become the basest of late in; and it was rumored that a mysterious makingdoms," the so-called towns of Upper Egypt gician's dress, covered all over with glittering hieroconsist of mud-walled huts, built up beside her for- glyphics, was secured by a well-known spiritualist; mer gorgeous temples, and the most magnificent pal- but this was only a report in the room. Ladies' slips ace-tombs which the world has ever seen, desola- and Elizabethan trunks were prominent items; but tion is visible on every side; - but the corpse of the the strangest article was a very green devil good old King Mykerinus, to use the language of a which hung from the ceiling by his tail. The catadistinguished foreign scholar, "reposes at this hour logue enumerating these "properties" would puzzle in greater security than it did four thousand years any non-professional; but the buyers, surrounded by ago, in the island, the mistress of the world, whose these garments of departed demons, clowns, fairies, freedom and free institutions are stronger bulwarks and magicians, haggled and bid and jostled each than the ocean which encircles her, among the treas-other as if all mysteries were known to them. To

66

66

terrible

Ar the sale of the late John Leech's drawings, which took place in London some months since, the Prince of Wales was one of the largest buyers. These original drawings have recently been framed, and now hang upon the walls of the Prince's favorite apartment at Marlborough House.

WE see it stated in the Illustrirte Zeitung of Leipzig, that the once famous Sophie Schroeder, whose histrionic triumphs reflected so much credit on the German stage in days long past, celebrated her eighty-fifth birthday on the 1st of March, and received many congratulatory missives, and among them one from King Ludwig I. of Bavaria.

A VERY curious optical instrument, says the London Review, has been invented by M. Houdin. It is termed an iridiscope, and has for its object the detection of diseased conditions of the humors of the eye. It consists simply of a concave shell, having a small aperture in its centre. The patient uses the iridiscope himself in the following manner. The instrument being placed upon the eye, he looks through the aperture at diffused light, and if the humors of the eye be altered in character, minute particles will be seen floating in the field of vision. M. Houdin says its principle is something like that upon which a water carafe is held up to the light to detect whether its contents are pure.

tastes of Mr. Winkle), a name, a phrase, or a word, to be found in the "Pickwick Papers."

I never saw Mr. Seymour's handwriting, I believe, in my life.

and that was within eight-and-forty hours of his unI never even saw Mr. Seymour but once in my life, timely death. Two persons, both still living, were present on that short occasion.

Mr. Seymour died when only the first twenty-four printed pages of the "Pickwick Papers were published; I think before the next three or four pages were completely written; I am sure before one subsequent

line of the book was invented.

In the Preface to the Cheap Edition of the "Pickwick Papers," published in October, 1847, I thus described the origin of that work: "I was a young man of threeand-twenty, when the present publishers, attracted by Chronicle newspaper (of which one series had lately been some pieces I was at that time writing in the Morning collected and published in two volumes, illustrated by my esteemed friend Mr. George Cruikshank), waited upon me to propose a something that should be published in shilling numbers, - then only known to me, certain interminable novels in that form, which used, or, I believe, to anybody else, by a dim recollection of some five-and-twenty years ago, to be carried about the country by pedlers, and over some of which I remember I have shed innumerable tears, before I served my apprenticeship to Life..... The idea propounded to me was that the monthly something should be a vehicle for certain plates to be executed by Mr. Seymour, and there was a notion, either on the part of that admirable humorous artist, or of my visitor (I forget which), that a "Nimrod Club," the members of which were to go out shooting, fishing, and so forth, and getting themselves into difficulties through their want of dexterity, would be the best means of introducing these. I objected, on consideration, that although born and partly bred in the all kinds of locomotion; that the idea was not novel, country I was no great sportsman, except in regard of and had been already much used; that it would be infinitely better for the plates to arise naturally out of the text; and that I should like to take my own way, with a freer range of English scenes and people, and was afraid I should ultimately do so in any case, whatever course I might prescribe to myself at starting. My views being deferred to, I thought of Mr. Pickwick, and wrote the first number; from the proof-sheets of which Mr. Seymour made his drawing of the Club, and that happy portrait of its founder, by which he is always recognized, and which may be said to have made him a reality. I connected Mr. Pickwick with a club, because of the original suggestion, and I put in Mr. Winkle expressly for the use of Mr. Seymour. We started with a number of twenty-four pages instead of thirty-two, and four illustrations in lieu of a couple. Mr. Seymour's sudden and lamented death before the second number was published brought about a quick decision upon a point already in agitation; the number became one of thirty-two pages with two illustrations, and re

An amusing story is now going the round of the Paris clubs. It appears that a short time ago a foreign prince made a heavy bet that he would be arrested by the police without committing any offence whatever, or in any way provoking the authorities. The bet having been taken by a member of the Imperial Club, the prince went to one of the most aristocratic cafés in Paris, dressed in a battered hat, a ragged blouse, and boots all in holes, and, sitting down at one of the tables, ordered a cup of coffee. The waiters, however, paid no attention to so suspicious-looking a customer; upon which the prince put his hand in his pocket and showed them a bundle of bank-notes. The proprietor then ordered the coffee to be served, sending meanwhile to the nearest police-station for a sergent-de-ville. The prince was duly arrested and taken to the commissary of police, where he stated who he was, and was afterwards taken to the gentleman with whom he made the bet to prove his identity. A similar story was told at Vienna some time ago of a HunIn July, 1849, some incoherent assertions made by garian Prince Szandar, M. de Metternich's son-in-the widow of Mr. Seymour, in the course of certain enlaw, who, in order to make his arrest quite sure, deavors of hers to raise money, induced me to address a took the bank-notes out of his boots. letter to Mr. Edward Chapman, then the only surviving business-partner in the original firm of Chapman & Hall, who first published the "Pickwick Papers," requesting him to inform me in writing whether the fore

mained so to the end.'

"

THE following characteristic letter, addressed by
Mr. Charles Dickens to the editor of The (London)
Athenæum, contains some interesting facts concern-going statement was correct.
ing the production of the " Pickwick Papers."

In Mr. Chapman's confirmatory answer, immediately written, he reminded me that I had given Mr. Seymour more credit than was his due. "As this letter is to be historical," he wrote, "I may as well claim what little belongs to me in the matter, and that is, the figure of Pickwick. Seymour's first sketch," made from the proof of my first chapter, was of a long, thin man. present immortal one he made from my description of a

66

friend of mine at Richmond."

The

CHARLES DICKENS.