Personal traits do not come within the province of this paper, or it would be pleasant to dwell upon Mr. Thomson's modesty, his untiring industry, and his devotion to his art. But in regard to that art, it may be observed that to characterise it solely as "packing the memory with pleasant fancies" may suffice for an exordium, but is inadequate as a final appreciation. Let me therefore note down, as they occur to me, some of his more prominent pictorial characteristics. With three of the artists mentioned in this and the preceding paper, he has obvious affinities, while, in a sense, he includes them all. If he does not excel Stothard in the gift of grace, he does in range and variety; and he more than rivals him in composition. He has not, like Miss Greenaway, endowed the art-world with a special type of childhood; but his children are always lifelike and engaging. (Compare, at a venture, the boy soldiers whom Frank Castlewood is drilling in chapter xi. of _Esmond_, or the delightful little fellow who is throwing up his arms in chapter ix. of _Emma_.) As regards dogs and horses and the rest, his colleague, Mr, Joseph Pennell, an expert critic, and a most accomplished artist, holds that he has "long since surpassed" Randolph Caldecott.[34] I doubt whether Mr. Thomson himself would concur with his eulogist in this. But he has assuredly followed Caldecott close; and in opulence of production, which--as Macaulay insisted--should always count, has naturally exceeded that gifted, but shortlived, designer. If, pursuing an ancient practice, one were to attempt to label Mr. Thomson with a special distinction apart from, and in addition to, his other merits, I should be inclined to designate him the "Master of the Vignette,"--taking that word in its primary sense as including head-pieces, tail-pieces and initial letters. In this department, no draughtsman I can call to mind has ever shown greater fertility of invention, so much playful fancy, so much grace, so much kindly humour, and such a sane and wholesome spirit of fun. Notes: [33] _The Ballad of Beau Brocade_, and _The Story of Rosina_. [34] _Pen-Drawing and Pen-Draughtsmen, 2nd ed. 1894, p. 358._ HORATIAN ODE ON THE TERCENTENARY OF "DON QUIXOTE" _(Published at Madrid, by Francisco de Robles, January 1605)_ "Para mi sola nacio don Quixote, y yo para el."--CERVANTES. Advents we greet of great and small; Much we extol that may not live; Yet to the new-born Type we give No care at all! This year,[35]--three centuries past,--by age More maimed than by LEPANTO'S fight,-- This year CERVANTES gave to light His matchless page, Whence first outrode th' immortal Pair,-- The half-crazed Hero and his hind,-- To make sad laughter for mankind; And whence they fare Throughout all Fiction still, where chance Allies Life's dulness with its dreams-- Allies what is, with what but seems,-- Fact and Romance:--