'Jack Runnymede's Dream' is perhaps the most indicative of the artist's vein of grotesque humour. This champion of the 'rights of an Englishman' had a peculiar dream before commencing a suit at law. He fancied the Father of Evil met him by the wayside, performing like a shepherd on his pipe, and tendered him a 'little pup.' The Satanic person is set forth with great imaginative attractiveness, and the convolutions of his tail are very elaborate.
'John Applejohn's Humane Intentions' are displayed just at the very instant they were most liable to uncharitable misinterpretation, for he is caught, on his knees, with a bunch of keys, evidently in the act of lock-picking. 'Maximilian Tape before the Lords,' represents the little journeyman tailor just as he was captured by those promising slips of the aristocracy, Lord Slap, Tom Rumpus, young Plucky, and Rowdow; while one of the party is breaking a plate over his affrighted head that he may prove his trade by stitching it together again. 'Mr. Cramlington,' Applejohn's master, in his borrowed locks and whiskers, the son of Tape's employer, a West End outfitter, who has got introduced to this fine, improving society, under the assumption of being a 'man of fashion,' is looking on the scene in ill-concealed dread of his own recognition and exposure.
In the 'Final Reward of John Applejohn,' that unfortunate but well meaning, simple youth, just captured from the front of a booth, and still in the dress of a statue, in which character he narrowly escaped demolition, is restored to the "girl of his heart."
'Barnaby Palms Feeling his Way' is shown, the epitome of artfulness, at the breakfast-table of his worthy uncle, where he is taking his last meal before setting out to seek his fortune in the world. The wily youth insisted on eating a stale egg, declaring he 'did not care for his eggs over-fresh,' in order to win the heart of his relative, before whom is displayed a well-filled money-bag—Barnaby's anticipated 'start in life.' It may be remembered that the uncle expressed his earnest conviction that a man 'who did not care for his eggs over-fresh' was sure to make his way by himself, and so sent Barnaby forth without the coveted money-bag.
'Cheek's Introduction to a New Subject' represents the prison-yard, where the dwarf artist and modeller, Mr. Pop, is maliciously enjoying the spectacle of his employer, Cheek, the waxwork showman, in a state of horror, with his hand locked in the fist of Kemp, the murderer, whose head they have come down to 'take off' after execution. 'The Ghost of Kemp' represents Aaron, the Jew fence, waking from his guilty slumbers to discover the murderer's head, which Pop has modelled and placed for security on the window-sill, where it is suddenly disclosed by the moonlight to the conscience-stricken and horrified 'receiver of stolen goods,' who had congratulated himself that the hangman's noose had effectually removed all evidence of his own guilt.
'Matthew Clear, the Man who Saw his Way,' is introduced in the fatal instance of 'not seeing his way' which proved his ruin; seated on a sofa with the artful adventuress whose fortune the long-headed Clear flattered himself he should secure by persuading her into a marriage. He is planted very comfortably on a little sofa, below the simpering portrait of his bride. Julia's arms are round the neck of the deluded Clear; on his knee is perched a great lubberly boy, a pledge of affection to which it appears the lady stands 'almost in the light of a mother.' Matthew, evidently lost as to 'his way,' is successfully cajoled; and Mrs. Clear's parrot, which had been educated on board ship, is shrieking demoniacally, 'Hooked, by Jingo!'
The last plate illustrates the 'Introduction of Titus Trumps to Miss Wolfe.' The confiding hero of this story, whose belief in something 'turning up' favourable was ineradicable, is being confronted by the peppery Baronet, Sir Jeremy Sloth, with his daughter, the mature but impressionable Emily, when he has actually come to pay a visit to her maid, whose relatives keep a public-house with the sign of 'General Wolfe.'
These illustrations would probably have achieved more success had the artist confined himself to the bold outline manner of etching in which his better-known plates are executed, and in which he early exhibited a fair proficiency. His desire to conform to the fashion of the day (the 'Pickwick Papers' were publishing at the time) led him to attempt a style in which he had not enjoyed sufficient experience to qualify him to produce results which would compare favourably with the works of older hands.
Another jeu d'esprit from his pencil, commenced somewhat later, is considerably more in the unmistakeable Titmarshian vein; indeed, for the force and fun of its satire, it perhaps excels all that he ever did in the indulgence of his amazing talents for ludicrous personalities. We refer to the series of illustrations, or rather caricatures, suggested for the 'Whitey-brown Paper Magazine,' which was never issued. The rarity of these croquis, merely a few loose lithographed leaves, drawn by Thackeray himself, is so excessive that it is stated that the only original copy which has come under our notice cost the proprietor no less than forty guineas. The entire paper, which in its intention does not differ widely from certain of the 'Yellowplush Papers,' is directed to ridicule the consequence of Dr. Lardner, editor of the 'Cabinet Cyclopædia,' and his friend Sir Bulwer Lytton. It may be remembered that the 'Literary Chronicle,' under the influence of these gentlemen, was a pet aversion to its rival 'Fraser,' with Dr. Maginn and Titmarsh to the front. The caricatures commence with a 'Preface, Advertisement, or Introduction,' to which we must briefly refer in order to bring on the scene the young gentleman whose history is displayed in the caricatures, and who it was stated, lest persons should fancy the ridicule directed against any of the writer's contemporaries, lived many thousands of years ago in the reign of Chrononhotonthologos, King of Brentford.
This gentleman's name was Dionysius Diddler, and the historian hastens to anticipate misconstruction by explaining that he was no relation of any other Dionysius, nor indeed a native of Brentford (though, it is confessed, Diddlers certainly abound in that place).