In the first place, I shall present to the reader a suppressed portrait of the great novelist, which has, I believe, never since been reproduced. It was published about the year 1837 by Churton, but as to the name of the artist by whom it was etched there is a mystery which yet awaits solution. The plate is, as will be noticed, signed with the familiar pen-name “Phiz,” but was almost immediately repudiated by the chartered bearer of that title, H. K. Browne. It was promptly withdrawn from publication, and is now, as a necessary consequence, much sought after by the collector.[10] Of it the author of _Charles Dickens, the Story of his Life_, writes: A very remarkable [portrait] was etched about 1837 with the name “Phiz” at the foot. It represents Dickens {28} seated on a chair and holding a portfolio. In the background a Punch-and-Judy performance is going on. The face has none of that delicacy and softness about it which are observable in the Maclise portrait. It looks, however, more like the real young face of the older man, as revealed in the photograph now publishing [_i.e._ just after Dickens’s death]. This portrait is very rare, and it is understood that it was withdrawn from publication soon after it appeared. Mr. Hablot K. Browne, the genuine “Phiz,” denies all knowledge of it. [10] Since writing this, I have experienced a piece of scurvy luck. Entering a shop in the outskirts of Birmingham, I saw an impression of the etching lying on a table. I inquired its price and was met by the answer that it had just been sold to a lady for eighteenpence! The Hotten memoir thus whets the appetites of its readers, but does not offer to satisfy them by a reproduction. This obvious duty I therefore here take the opportunity of discharging, and would advise the book-hunter to make a mental note of the etching in that pix of the brain where is secreted the reagent which separates the rare gold of the bookseller’s threepenny box from its too ordinary dross. The reproduction here given is about the size of the original etching. So much for the suppressed portrait. Now let us take up our first edition of _Pickwick_, and say what has to be said about the much-discussed Buss plates and their substitutes. [Illustration: The suppressed portrait of Charles Dickens] _Pickwick_, as we all know, was first published in parts, and only one number had appeared when {29} Robert Seymour, its illustrator, died by his own hand. Messrs. Chapman and Hall, the publishers, were at their wits’ end to get the new number illustrated in time for publication. Jackson, the well-known wood-engraver, who was at the time working for them, proposed for the task R. W. Buss, a “gentleman already well known to the public as a very humorous and talented artist.” The publishers gladly adopted the suggestion, and the appointment was made.