From all this mystification, the reader is at least to conclude that something very important has been done, and contributions very valuable have been made, for a final biography of Howard. Documents collated--researches made, and caused to be made--then a discovered manuscript, which now is, and now is not, appertaining to the subject--assurance "that no other papers exist in any known quarter!"--"materials _now_ fully collected!" Oh, Admirable Crichton! Our author has done all this for us! Our author has read the memoirs of Baldwin Brown--and that not very attentively: if he has done more it is a pity, because there is not the least trace of it in his book. Our author has read the memoirs of Baldwin Brown, and travestied his narrative, and then writes this preface, as a travesty, we presume, of erudite prefaces in general. The book altogether does not belong to literature, but is a sort of parody upon literature. We may as well give our readers the benefit of the rest of the preface:-- "The mental and moral portraiture of Howard attempted in this volume is new." [Fortunately, and to the recommendation of the volume, it is not new, but a transcript of that which his predecessor had drawn.] "As the writer's method of inquiry and of treatment was different to that ordinarily adopted, so his result is different. His study of the character was earnest, and, he believes, faithful. After making himself master of all the facts of the case which have come down to us, biographically and traditionally, his plan was to _saturate himself with Howardian ideas_, and then strive to reproduce them _living, acting, and suffering_ in the real world." How the Howardian ideas _suffered_ from this process, we can somewhat guess. The rest of the sentence is not so plain:-- "The writer lays down his pen, not without regret. Long accustomed to contemplate one of the most noble and beautiful characters in history, he has learnt to regard it with a human affection; and at parting with his theme--the mental companion of many hours, and the object of his constant thoughts--_he feels somewhat like a father who gives away his favourite daughter in marriage_. He does not lose his interest in his child; but she can be to him no longer what she has been. A touch of melancholy mingles with his joy. He still regards his offspring with a tender solicitude--_but his monopoly of love is ended_." Oh, surely no! We propose, as far as our limits will permit, to retrace the chief incidents in the biography of Howard. A brief sketch of his life and character may not be unacceptable to our readers. Such strictures as we have passed upon his latest biographer, Mr Dixon, we shall have abundant opportunities to justify as we proceed.