h with a powerful blow--marking his
individuality, whilst the pleasant kindly smile of greeting, and the
full firm tones of his manly voice, gave evidence of vigour very rare
in a man of his age. Even to the last his strength seemed unimpaired,
and he succumbed to a chance attack of bronchitis, but for which his
constitution seemed to possess sufficient stamina to have made him a
centenarian. He died at his residence on the 15th of February, 1873,
being then in his 90th year.

He was a well-informed man, and had a most retentive memory. He had
a great fund of quiet humour, and could tell a good story better than
most men. He was a good judge of character, and, as a magistrate,
could distinguish between what was radically bad in a prisoner, and
the crime which was the outcome of want and wretchedness. During
his long Birmingham life of nearly seventy years, he was universally
respected, and when he descended into the grave it may be said that
there was no one who could say of him an unkindly word.

He was mainly instrumental in the establishment of the Birmingham
Exchange, the idea of which originated with Mr. Edwin Lander. He
exerted himself greatly in the establishment of the company which
erected the buildings, and he was its chairman until his death.
The members of this institution, to mark their sense of his worth,
commissioned Mr. Munns to paint his portrait; and if any reader is
desirous to see the "counterfeit presentment" of what Henry Van Wart
was, he has only to enter the principal hall of the Exchange, where
he will find a full-length portrait, at 87 years of age, of a man who,
more than any other I have known, was entitled to--

"The grand old name of _Gentleman_."

CHARLES SHAW, J.P., &c.

Just before the Great Western Railway Company began the construction
of their line from Oxford to Birmingham, I was passing down Great
Charles Street one afternoon, when my attention was attracted by some
unusual bustle. Near the spot where the hideous railway bridge now
disfigures the street, there was a row of carts and vans backed up to
the curbstone of the pavement on the left. From a passage by the side
of a large square brick-built house some brokers' men were bringing a
variety of dingy stools, desks, shelves, counters, and other odds and
ends of office furniture. Near the front door of the house, stood,
looking on, a well-dressed, stout-built, florid-complexioned man, of
middle height, and, appar