m was essentially original. It is this
delightful originality of George Cruikshank which constitutes his
_genius_.

[Illustration:
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. "_Three Courses and a Dessert._"

THE DEAF POSTILION.

(_See p. 169._)]

[Illustration:
GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. "_Three Courses and a Dessert._"

THE BRAINTREES.

"I doan't want to hurt thee, zo I leaves thee wi' un, but, mind--he'll
hold thy droat a little tighter than I did, if thee wags a hair."

_Face p. 171._]

"No plan!" "no ambition!" "not much industry!" so at least said
Lockhart. We may doubt whether even at the time it was spoken this
charge had any foundation of truth to rest upon; an answer to it at
least will be found in the fact that, before the mysterious spell had
fallen upon him we shall presently have to describe, this sterling and
indefatigable genius had already produced thousands upon thousands of
miraculous little drawings. From the mass of these wonderful creations
we propose now to select a few examples, choosing them in the first
instance from a graver type than some we shall presently have to
consider.

"Greenwich Hospital" gives us one of the very best drawings which
Cruikshank ever designed. The scene of the _Point of Honour_ is laid on
board the _Triumph_, at Spithead, at the time of the famous mutiny. A
detachment of marines with shouldered arms are drawn up on the quarter
deck, their drummer is beating to quarters, while all hands are
assembled to witness a degrading and demoralizing spectacle,--a sailor,
with his shoulders bare and his hands tied to the triangles, about to
receive punishment for disobedience to orders. Conspicuous amongst the
figures are two little middies, habited in the strange naval uniform of
sixty years ago. The illustration to _The Braintrees_, at page 90 of the
"Three Courses and a Dessert" is a marvellous specimen, not only of the
graphic power of the artist, but a triumph of the wood-engraver's
craft. In _The Gin Shop_ ("Sketches by Boz"), the artist selected a
subject which invariably enlisted his sympathy and called into action
the full power of his graphic satire. Mark the flaming gas, the huge
spirit vats, the gaudily painted pillars and mouldings; above all, the
strange people: the young man with his hat on one side who chaffs the
young ladies behind the bar, the gin-drinking female by his side, the
gin-loving cripple, the small boy who brings the family bottle to be
filled with gin, wh