Does it not seem impossible to make a picture out of this?  And yet George Cruikshank has produced a charming design, in which the uncles and nephews are so prettily portrayed that one is reconciled to their existence, with all their moralities.  Many more of the mirths in this little book are excellent, especially a great figure of a parson entering church on horseback,—­an enormous parson truly, calm, unconscious, unwieldy.  As Zeuxis had a bevy of virgins in order to make his famous picture—­his express virgin—­a clerical host must have passed under Cruikshank’s eyes before he sketched this little, enormous parson of parsons.

Being on the subject of children’s books, how shall we enough praise the delightful German nursery-tales, and Cruikshank’s illustrations of them?  We coupled his name with pantomime awhile since, and sure never pantomimes were more charming than these.  Of all the artists that ever drew, from Michael Angelo upwards and downwards, Cruikshank was the man to illustrate these tales, and give them just the proper admixture of the grotesque, the wonderful, and the graceful.  May all Mother Bunch’s collection be similarly indebted to him; may “Jack the Giant Killer,” may “Tom Thumb,” may “Puss in Boots,” be one day revivified by his pencil.  Is not Whittington sitting yet on Highgate hill, and poor Cinderella (in that sweetest of all fairy stories) still pining in her lonely chimney-nook?  A man who has a true affection for these delightful companions of his youth is bound to be grateful to them if he can, and we pray Mr. Cruikshank to remember them.

It is folly to say that this or that kind of humor is too good for the public, that only a chosen few can relish it.  The best humor that we know of has been as eagerly received by the public as by the most delicate connoisseur.  There is hardly a man in England who can read but will laugh at Falstaff and the humor of Joseph Andrews; and honest Mr. Pickwick’s story can be felt and loved by any person above the age of six.  Some may have a keener enjoyment of it than others, but all the world can be merry over it, and is always ready to welcome it.  The best criterion of good humor is success, and what a share of this has Mr. Cruikshank had! how many millions of mortals has he made happy!  We have heard very profound persons talk philosophically of the marvellous and mysterious manner in which he has suited himself to the time—­fait vibrer la fibre populaire (as Napoleon boasted of himself), supplied a peculiar want felt at a peculiar period, the simple secret of which is, as we take it, that he, living amongst the public, has with them a general wide-hearted sympathy, that he laughs at what they laugh at, that he has a kindly spirit of enjoyment, with not a morsel of mysticism in his composition; that he pities and loves the poor, and jokes at the follies of the great, and that he addresses all in a perfectly sincere and manly way.  To be greatly successful as a professional