ot be _all_ a Comic History of Humanity. Some men
would, I believe, write the Comic Sermon on the Mount. Think of a Comic
History of England! The drollery of Alfred! the fun of Sir Thomas More
in the Tower! the farce of his daughter begging the dead head, and
clasping it in her coffin, on her bosom! Surely the world will be sick
of this blasphemy!" "The Comic History of England" appeared,
notwithstanding, and was followed afterwards by the "Comic History of
Rome;" and however we may sympathize with the honest indignation of
Jerrold, and condemn the questionable taste of A Beckett, we have at
least to thank the latter for some of the drollest and most original
designs which ever emanated from the pencil of John Leech.

The eccentric and original costumes in which he draped the classical
characters of Rome appear to have been a favourite idea with the artist.
Shirley Brooks relates that he first made his acquaintance at a fancy
ball given at the house of their mutual friend, the late John Parry.
"Leech's costume," says the late editor of _Punch_, "I well remember. It
was something like Charles Mathews, as chorus to Medea. The black
trousers and patent leather boots of decorous life were below; but above
was the classic tunic. Then in addition he wore a fine new hat, round
which, instead of around his head, was the laurel wreath; and the Greek
ideal was brought into further discomfiture by a pair of spectacles and
an exceedingly neat umbrella." This comical idea will be found
ridiculously amplified in his amazing designs to "The Comic History of
Rome."

ALBERT SMITH.

Medical student, novelist, dramatist, humourist, and showman--for some
of us still remember his diorama of "The Overland Route"--the most
fortunate venture of Albert Richard Smith (to give him his full name)
was his ascent of Mont Blanc, which formed the theme of a
well-remembered lecture, in which his perils amid rocky pinnacle,
snow-field, and glacier lost nothing by the graphic mode in which they
were related. This "ascent," by the way, proved a source of profit to
others besides himself; and we should be curious to know the number of
Chamounix guides and hotel-keepers who were enabled through his indirect
means to retire into private life. The memory of Albert Smith is
deservedly cherished by the inhabitants of the distant Savoyard valley,
for he made the ascent of the "Monarch of Mountains" popular among his
countrymen, and thereby sowed the seed