To it also, it must be added, he owed one of his most imaginative and delightful etchings,--“The Triumph, of Cupid,”--published in his “Table Book.” His earnestness was extravagantly expressed in all things. As a furious anti-Papist, he would draw aside and shake his coat when Sisters of Charity or a Catholic priest passed him. “Do you see that fellow in front?” he suddenly asked a friend with whom he was walking. It was a workman quietly enjoying his pipe. “Do you know what I would do to him if I were a man of fortune? I’d kick him! To think that any man should be fool enough to place a tube between his lips, and go puff, puff, puff!” This was his “counter blast.” And he glared at the workman as he passed on. He had himself been an inveterate smoker for more than forty years! On another occasion he drew sharply up before the windows of his old wine merchant, and called out, “Give me back my thousand pounds!” When the Crystal Palace was opened at Sydenham, Cruikshank, in his rage that it had not been made a Temperance palace, drew some extravagant drawings of the opening ceremony for Messrs. Cassell, one of which represented the Archbishop of Canterbury bestowing his blessing upon a public-house. Dining one day at Grampian Lodge, Forest Sill, with his friend Dr. Rogers, he suddenly began to tell the company that he had had a vision the night before. Then he related it with much gesticulation, and with dramatic effect. He had seen two devils in council. One had said, “England is moral, prosperous, happy--this will never do. How can we put an end to it? Her crops are splendid; look, for instance, at her barley, her-” The second devil interrupted: “I have an idea. Her barley, which makes such splendid food, let us teach them to soak it, to sour it, to make it ferment; in short, to turn it into a tempting poison.” “Agreed!” cried the first devil. “Why,” the second devil continued, “we will actually make them drink it of their own accord; they shall lift the poison to their own lips with their own hands.” “Ha! ha!” shouted the first devil; “and then of course, there will be murder, robbery, violence, and misery all over the land.” “The devils have had their way,” the old man added his keen eyes glancing round the table to mark the effect of his vision. He was indeed, as a writer called him, a “muscular teetotaler.” “In his time,” a Temperance writer * records to his honour, “he must have attended thousands of temperance meetings, and at these few men were more welcome. * The Temperance Record, February 7th, 1878.