ity on the rubbish of A Beckett. It is curious, however, how little
these facts were recognised at the time, and what little credit was
given in contemporary reviews and by contemporary critics to the artists
who rendered to successful novelists the priceless aid and assistance of
their pencils.

How far the needle of "Phiz" contributed to the ultimate success of the
great _raconteur_, Charles James Lever, we are in no position to state;
that it proved a very large factor in that result there can be no manner
of doubt. That success was not achieved immediately. Lever commenced
life as a struggling country doctor, and "Harry Lorrequer," first
brought out in the "Dublin University Magazine," before it appeared in
illustrated shilling numbers, was almost wholly ignored by the London
press, the criticisms and favourable remarks coming almost wholly from
provincial journals. There was one exception by the way, a military
paper, the critic of which went into such ecstacies over this sparkling
military medley, that he asserted he would rather be author of
"Lorrequer" than of all the "Pickwicks" or "Nicklebys" in the world.
This notice (unknown to Lever) was published with the advertisements of
the book, and (strange to say) gave so much annoyance to Dickens that he
sent an angry reply to a civil letter which came to him shortly
afterwards from the Irish novelist, and their friendly intercourse was
for some years suspended in consequence.

[Illustration:
PHIZ. "_Master Humphrey's Clock_," 1840-1.

SAM WELLER AND HIS FATHER.

_Face p. 352._]

The decline of Hablot Browne's popularity was painfully apparent to
himself. Although our chapter was written long before the appearance of
Mr. Kitton's pamphlet, we may be permitted to re-open it to extract from
the latter the following melancholy observations which we find in a
letter to his son, Dr. Browne: "I am at present on a sporting paper,
supported by some high and mighty nobs; but I fear, _like everything I
have to do with, now a-days_, it will collapse, for some of the
proprietors of the paper are also shareholders, etc., etc., in the
Graphotype Company, so they want to work the two together. I hate the
process; it takes quite four times as long as wood, and I cannot draw
and express myself with a nasty, finicking brush, and the result when
printed seems to alternate between something all as black as my hat, or
as hazy and faint as a worn-out plate. If on wood, I shou