It is hardly necessary to say that it is not my intention to make this book a devil’s directory to illustrations which have been suppressed because of indecency, and are referred to in the catalogues of second-hand booksellers, whose cupidity is stronger than their self-respect, as “facetiæ” or “very curious.” Indeed, this book would itself in that case also very properly be put on the index expurgatorius of every decent person. My purpose is to gather together, correct and amplify the floating details concerning a legitimate class of rarities, and to put the collector on his guard, where necessary, against imposition. By its very nature this treatise cannot be complete, but I have included most of the {5} examples of any importance which, during many years of bibliomania, have come under my observation. To these I have added certain re-engraved or palimpsest plates, which are germane to the subject. As to these last I find amongst my papers a curious note from the pen of R. H. Cromek, the engraver, who flourished at the end of the eighteenth century. “One of these vendors,” he writes (publishers of Family Bibles), “lately called to consult me professionally about an engraving he brought with him. It represented Mons. Buffon seated, contemplating various groups of animals surrounding him. He merely wished, he said, to be informed whether, by engaging my services to unclothe the naturalist, and giving him a rather more resolute look, _the plate could not, at a trifling expense, be made to do duty for ‘Daniel in the lions’ den’_”! That would be a palimpsest well worth possessing, if ever it were carried into effect. It would be as fascinating an object of contemplation as the Stothard designs for _Clarissa Harlowe_, {6} which the same authority informs us were later used to illustrate the Scriptures! But the history of the _cliché_, pure and simple, has yet to be written. Our concern is with higher game than that. {7} CHAPTER II “THE MARQUIS OF STEYNE” Perhaps the most celebrated of suppressed book illustrations is the wood-engraved portrait of the “Marquis of Steyne,” drawn by Thackeray as an illustration to _Vanity Fair_, for which, if we are to believe the statement of a well-known bookseller’s catalogue, “libellous proceedings (_sic_) were threatened on account of its striking likeness to a member of the aristocracy.” With the accuracy of this statement I shall deal in due course.