In connection with this question of portraying a man "warts and all," I might cite the beautiful bust of Liszt by Boehm. Here the sculptor left out the warts, with, it seems to me, a failure of judgment which affects the importance of the bust as art as well as its importance as a true image of the subject. I do not mean that I should prefer such physical defects over-emphasized in a portrait, for that would be absurd. It is, however, essential that an artist should not be unduly sensitive about such blemishes. Imagine, for instance, how little we should recognize--and how little we should appreciate--such a bowdlerized or expurgated rendering of the oddly-marked face of Oliver Cromwell. This reminds me of an early caricature of my own. It was drawn on paper with a flaw which the lithographer took for a wart; and in an excess of zeal the lithographer copied it minutely as such. The subject, whom I had drawn from memory, came to ask me for an explanation, saying, "My dear fellow, I may have other blemishes; but _really_ I have not a wart!" I was obliged to explain that the flaw in the paper upon which I drew the original had only shown it in one light. In the earlier days of _Vanity Fair_ I was very often given subjects refused by Pellegrini. Bowles would say to him, "Now I want you to catch So-and-so," and Pellegrini would reply, "I don't like 'im. Send Ward--'e can run after 'im better." Thus it came about that I was sent off to stalk the undesirable subject because I was younger, and I was obliged of course to comply with the demands of the paper and pursue Pellegrini's uncaricaturable subjects. As an artist, Pellegrini's likes and dislikes were curious. He could find no beauty in a landscape, so he informed me, no matter how well depicted. Whistler's work he adored and Millais' he detested. He was a great personal friend of Whistler's, and, curiously enough, because Pellegrini's work was formerly greatly opposed to Whistler's, he spent a considerable time studying Whistler's method of painting and admiring his work. Pellegrini became so imbued with the great painter and his ideas that he determined to abandon caricature and give his attention to portrait painting. His intention was to outshine Millais, whom he found uncongenial as an artist, and whose work he prophesied would not survive a lifetime's popularity. One of his favourite recreations was to discuss Millais and his success in relation to himself when he had gained fame as a painter. One day, on this subject, after working himself up into his customary excitement, he twisted a piece of paper into a funnel-shaped roll, and said to me:-- "Now Millais' ambitions go in like this"--pointing to the big end, "and become this"--turning up the smaller end. "And mine begin small and go on...." Here he opened his arms as if to embrace the infinite. [Illustration: J. REDMOND, M.P. 1904.] [Illustration: THE SPEAKER (J. W. LOWTHER, M.P.). 1906.] [Illustration: BONAR LAW, M.P. 1905.]