Then for Sam's "Profeel machine." Mr. Andrew Lang in his notes wonders what this "Profeel machine" was, and fancies it was the silhouette process. This had nothing to do with the "Profeel machine"--which is described in "Little Pedlington," a delightful specimen of Pickwickian humour, and which ought to be better known than it is. "There now," said Daubson, the painter of "the all but breathing Grenadier," (alas! rejected by the Academy). "Then get up and sit down, if you please, mister." "He pointed to a narrow high-backed chair, placed on a platform; by the side of the chair was a machine of curious construction, from which protruded a long wire. 'Heady stiddy, mister.' He then slowly drew the wire over my head and down my nose and chin." Such was the "Profeel machine." There are many antiquated allusions in Pickwick--which have often exercised the ingenuity of the curious. Sam's "Fanteegs," has been given up in despair--as though there were no solution--yet, Professor Skeat, an eminent authority, has long since furnished it. {34} "Through the button hole"--a slang term for the mouth, has been well "threshed out"--as it is called. Of "My Prooshian Blue," as his son affectedly styled his parent, Mr. Lang correctly suggests the solution, that the term came of George IV's intention of changing the uniform of the Army to Blue. But this has been said before. Boz in his Pickwickian names was fond of disguising their sense to the eye, though not to the ear. Thus Lady Snuphanuph, looks a grotesque, but somewhat plausible name--snuff-enough--a further indication of the manners and customs. So with Lord Mutanhed, _i.e._ "Muttonhead." Mallard, Serjeant Snubbin's Clerk, I have suspected, may have been some Mr. Duck--whom "Boz" had known--in that line. "A MONUMENTAL PICKWICK." The fruitfulness of Pickwick, and amazing prolificness, that is one of its marvels. It is regularly "worked on," like Dante or Shakespeare. The Pickwickian Library is really a wonder. It is intelligible how a work like Boswell's "Johnson," full of allusions and names of persons who have lived, spoken, and written, should give rise to explanation and commentaries; but a work of mere imagination, it would be thought, could not furnish such openings. As we have just seen, Pickwick and the other characters are so real, so artfully blended with existing usages, manners, and localities, as to become actual living things.