have formed their ideas of
Seymour's powers from the oft republished and irretrievably damaged
impressions of the "Humorous Sketches," will be astonished at the
unaccustomed style, vigour, and beauty of these illustrations. A few of
the earlier _etchings_ are somewhat faint and indistinct, as if the
artist, even at that time, was scarcely accustomed to work on copper.
They, however, improve as he proceeds with his work; the larger number
are really beautiful, and are characterised by a vigour of conception
and execution, of which no possible idea can be formed by those who have
seen only the "Humorous Sketches." Noteworthy among the illustrations
may be mentioned the finely executed head of _Old Christmas_, facing
page 23; the _Baronial Hall_ (a picture highly realistic of the
Christmas comfort and good cheer which is little better than a myth to
many of us); _The Mummers_; _Christmas Pantomime_; _Market, Christmas
Eve_; _Boxing Day_; and _Twelfth Night in the London Streets_. The
cheery seasonable book shows us the _Norfolk Coach_ with its spanking
team rattling into London on a foggy Christmas Eve, heaped with fat
turkeys, poultry, Christmas hampers and parcels. William Congreve tells
us--

"Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast,
To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak."

The irritable personage awoke from his slumbers by the music of the
waits, certainly does not belong to any of the order of animate or
inanimate subjects so softened, soothed, or bent, as aforesaid, for he
opens his window and prepares to discharge the contents of his jug on
the heads of the devoted minstrels. If the ancient ophicleide player,
with the brandy bottle protruding from his great coat pocket, might but
know of the impending cataract which more immediately threatens himself,
he would convey himself from the dangerous neighbourhood with all the
alacrity of which his spindle shanks are capable. A younger neighbour on
the opposite side of the street awaits the catastrophe with amused
interest, whilst a drunken "unfortunate" executes--under the elevating
influences of music and drink--a _pas seul_ on the pavement below. In
the etching of _Story Telling_, the deep shadows of an old baronial hall
are illuminated solely by the moonbeams and the flickering flame of the
firelight; a door opens into a gallery beyond, and one of the listeners,
fascinated by the ghost story to which she is listening, glances
fearfully over her shoulder