Another great merit in the book is that, without ever sacrificing its character as an Autobiography, it is never egotistical; egoism being the great "I-sore" of such works. Should the humble individual who writes this necessarily brief notice ever arrive at the time for publishing his Recollections, he is perfectly sure that the book will be unequalled as a work of imagination. Mr. FRITH tells us how he improved his pictures by touching them up,--some people, too, are occasionally improved by the same process, if the "touching up" is only done judiciously,--and his self-restraint is therefore really admirable when he rejects the temptation to embellish, or spice, a story which no one is likely to contradict. For instance, in what may be called the Sass-age portion of his early life, he has some amusing anecdotes about Mr. JACOB BELL, then an Art student. BELL drew a man hanging, and SASS, the master, told him to leave the studio, "as such a career," as the man hanging, "is a bad example to your fellow-pupils." Now Mr. FRITH ought to have given BELL a triumphant exit speech--he ought to have said to SASS, "Sir, I was only illustrating what should be the fate of every one of your successful pupils--_to be hung on the line_. Good day." Exit BELL. Then he recounts how JACOB BELL, who, like SOTHERN, had a taste for such practical jokes as are utterly indefensible on the score of good taste and gentlemanly feeling, dressed up as a woman, and went to a Quakers' Meeting House, where he sat among the female portion of the congregation. Thinking he was discovered, this nice young man "took fright," and bolted. Here Mr. FRITH should have made the jovial JACOB subsequently explain that "he left because the women were all jealous of him, as he was the only 'BELL' among them." Mr. FRITH, full of his fun, jests, and humour, must be congratulated on having stuck to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And if anyone wants a first-rate ghost-story for the coming Christmas time, let him get Mr. FRITH'S book, and read how the prosaic and sensible Mr. WESTWOOD saw a ghost. It is simply but exquisitely told, and were it not that Mr. FRITH had previously owned to his complicity with SOTHERN in some of his "spiritualistic" demonstrations, there would be no sort of ground for suspecting him capable of joking on such serious subjects. The book is full of good stories, among which _The Mysterious Sitter_ and _Beckford at Fonthill_ are about the best. There is already a rail round MUDIE'S counter, and in front of all SMITH'S stalls, to keep off the crowds from taking away FRITH'S latest production without paying. Many of us are eye-witnesses to the fact of the rails in front of SMITH'S bookstalls all the way down the line wherever a train runs. Mr. FRITH'S very good health, and, as his friend _Rip-Van-Winkle_ JEFFERSON used to say, "May he live long an' prosber."