Lord Carteret, who brought out his handsomely-printed and bound edition of _Don Quixote_ in 1738, was arrested in his efforts on the eve of publication by the discovery that the engraving of Cervantes, which he desired to make his frontispiece, could not be reproduced for want of an original likeness from which to make a copy. The British Ambassador, at Madrid, instituted an energetic search in Spain, but he could find no trace of the pictures which it was known had been painted, and Lord Carteret commissioned William Kent to execute the necessary portrait. Kent followed faithfully the details which the author had revealed of his features and outward appearance in the preface to _Novelas Exemplares_; and in order to fend himself from any charge of deception he labelled it, “Portrait of Miguel de Cervantes by Himself.” William Kent’s imaginary portrait--a three-quarter length painting of a man in the prime of life of the stately and ultra-Spanish type of countenance, splendidly attired in ruffs and frills to resemble an exquisite of the period, has been used as the basis of all subsequent portraits of Cervantes. It is fanciful, somewhat ridiculous--since Cervantes never boasted purple and fine linen for his adornment--incorrect,--for the man of Lepanto’s maimed hand is represented as amputated--and generally misleading. But the conventional portrait and fanciful invention of Kent--the hooked nose, large moustache, round eyes and baby mouth--appealed to the Spanish imagination; and when, in 1780, the Spanish Academy published their own first classical edition of _Don Quixote_, a variant of Kent’s portrait graced the work. They declared, in the first place, that their discovery was from the brush of Alonso del Arco, but when it was pointed out that the deaf and dumb painter was not born until nine years after the death of the author, they declared it a copy of an original painted by one of Cervantes’ contemporaries. When the strong family resemblance between the Alonso de Arco portrait and that of William Kent was insisted upon, the Spanish Academy decided that the English picture was a copy of their discovered prize, and with that explanation they professed themselves entirely contented.