therein.'

A casual observer, adds the secretary, to whose notes we are
indebted for the following account--a casual observer might
possibly have remarked nothing extraordinary in the bald head,
and circular spectacles, which were intently turned towards his
(the secretary's) face, during the reading of the above resolutions:
to those who knew that the gigantic brain of Pickwick was
working beneath that forehead, and that the beaming eyes of
Pickwick were twinkling behind those glasses, the sight was
indeed an interesting one. There sat the man who had traced to
their source the mighty ponds of Hampstead, and agitated the
scientific world with his Theory of Tittlebats, as calm and
unmoved as the deep waters of the one on a frosty day, or as a
solitary specimen of the other in the inmost recesses of an earthen
jar. And how much more interesting did the spectacle become,
when, starting into full life and animation, as a simultaneous call
for 'Pickwick' burst from his followers, that illustrious man
slowly mounted into the Windsor chair, on which he had been
previously seated, and addressed the club himself had founded.
What a study for an artist did that exciting scene present! The
eloquent Pickwick, with one hand gracefully concealed behind
his coat tails, and the other waving in air to assist his glowing
declamation; his elevated position revealing those tights and
gaiters, which, had they clothed an ordinary man, might have
passed without observation, but which, when Pickwick clothed
them--if we may use the expression--inspired involuntary awe
and respect; surrounded by the men who had volunteered to
share the perils of his travels, and who were destined to participate
in the glories of his discoveries. On his right sat Mr. Tracy