Beaux seemed to have been very scarce in the district where stout, elderly gentlemen were thus privileged.
The curious thing is that hardly a single face of Mr. Pickwick's corresponds with its fellows, yet all are sufficiently like and recognizable. In the first picture of the club he is a cantankerous, sour, old fellow, but the artist presently mellowed him. The bald, benevolent forehead, the portly little figure, the gaiters, eye-glass and ribbon always put on expressively, seem his likeness. The "Mr. Pickwick sliding" and the "Mr. Pickwick sitting for his portrait in the Fleet" have different faces.
There has always been a sort of fascination in tracing out and identifying the Pickwickian localities. It is astonishing the number of persons that have been engrossed with this pursuit. Take Muggleton for instance, which seems to have hitherto defied all attempts at discovery. The younger Charles Dickens fancied that town, Malling, which lies to the
