ents of the every-day commonplace life of the
nineteenth century; he does not confine himself to humour; his fancy
takes a wider range, and revels in subjects of wonder, diablery, and
romance. Gnomes and fairies, devils and goblins, knights, giants,
jesters, and morris dancers are continually passing before us; there is
an endless succession of novelties, treated with a quaintness of fancy
which distinguishes it above all others; there is a ceaseless variety in
his _dramatis personae_, while the characters are as various as the
subjects. In these characteristics seem to lie the secret of the
pleasure which his illustrations, whether they be drawn on wood or
etched on the copper, never fail to inspire.

The sale and purchase of Peter Schlemihl's _Shadow_ has been noticed by
Thackeray. We see the Old Gentleman neatly packing up his purchase after
the manner of an "old clo'" dealer; he has just "lifted the _shadow of
one leg_; he is going to fold it back neatly, as one does the tails of a
coat, and will stow it, without any creases or crumples, along with the
other black garments that lie in that immense pocket of his."[88]
Another illustration in the same book shows us Peter, after he has
repented of his bargain (as vendors invariably do who indulge in
mercantile transactions of this character) in ardent pursuit of his
shadow, which the tantilizing purchaser has let out for the occasion.
Can anything more ludicrous be imagined than this scampering piece of
intangibility? The etching of _Sailors Carousing_ ["Greenwich
Hospital"], executed in 1826, before the artist had altogether
discontinued the style and manner of Gillray, would have delighted the
heart of that accomplished caricaturist. An old one-eyed salt presides
over a vast bowl of punch, the contents of which he is engaged in
distributing to the company. One enthusiastic tar foots it with such
vigour that he cannons against a potman, upsetting him and the measure
of scalding liquor he carries over another angry, blaspheming sailor
man; another sea worthy, snoring drunk, has converted his quart pot into
an impromptu pillow, his own recumbent form serving the purposes of a
footstool to a companion. The females are a combination of the styles of
Gillray and Cruikshank, and, with one exception, are old, ugly, and
preposterously fat. A comical illustration in the same book is called,
_Paying off a Jew Pedlar_. The unhappy man (who had cheated the
sailors), innocent of d