Compare this unpretending youth to one of Bulwer's heroes, or
Disraeli's, or even Thackeray's! And his simple old duke of a father
and his dowdy old duchess of a mother are almost as devoid of swagger
as himself; they seem to apologise for their very existence, if we may
trust these American chroniclers who seem to know them so well; and I
really think we no longer care to hear and read about them quite so
much as we did--unless it be in the society papers!

But all these past manners and customs that some of us can remember so
well--all these obsolete people, from the heavily whiskered swell to
the policeman with the leather-bound chimney-pot hat, from good pater-
and mater-familias who were actually looked up to and obeyed by their
children, to the croquet-playing darlings in the pork-pie hats and
huge crinolines--all survive and will survive for many a year in John
Leech's "Pictures of Life and Character."

Except for a certain gentleness, kindliness, and self-effacing modesty
common to both, and which made them appear almost angelic in the eyes
of many who knew them, it would be difficult to imagine a greater
contrast to Leech than Charles Keene.

Charles Keene was absolutely unconventional, and even almost
eccentric. He dressed more with a view to artistic picturesqueness
than to fashion, and despised gloves and chimney-pot hats, and black
coats and broadcloth generally.

[Illustration: CHARLES KEENE

From a photograph by Elliott and Fry, London.]