UBC Theses and Dissertations

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UBC Theses and Dissertations

Thackeray, a study Wilband, Hazel G. 1920

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^AojJkSAtsju (K %AJU_CLJ PtuJ-T. ti<UjJ-%~U)jJlHuld !1>b Contenta. Lil«5 OF TIlAOT'OSRAY—.Introduotion. I art 1. Chapter 1. 30Y OOP ?' r^ T-flOP. Birth - Pomlly - At Chart orLo use, idleness - At Cambridge, jarodies - Travels in Surope, taotos in Gorman Literature -As a law strident - Sditor of the "national" Standard" -disappointment borne "bravely - As en Art Strident at Paris -Idas* on artj truth and simplicity - The "Constitutional", Thackeray the . arls correspondent - nature of his corres-pondence* Attacks on unKholesora© litorature. Chapta* *. APOPTIOH OF LITERARY CAKB5R TO W.hfR. Loss of fortune - Eraser's Magasine; satires; Attack on Hewgate fiction,''Catherine'- Crusade against Sham; attacks on eontiraontojBisn - Apology for his youthful satires -Carriage - Tragody of his married life - Club lifo - The Brookfiolds - lunch - Unrecognised talents - Eis sweetness of torapor and unfailing #ood honor - Success with "Vanity Pair" - Criticised as snobbish - His reply - Lectures -Enthusiastic rocortion in Amorica - Period of i rolific siting - Ill \oalth - Trollops - Oxford elections - 3ditor of Corahill Magasin© - Death. Chapter 2. Ag KSTIJiATF, OP TKACK3BAY. ?EB "AU> ( Study of bis character neconoary for a oomploto imdor-3tanding of his rritinga, his character mirrorod in Lis works - Ilia aooial instinct . His seaialityj ooatewtforary teetinoay - Lavs far ohildrea - Charity aaa religion. t^ opsRAT'i m w w , Port I. Chaptar 1. THAOSSRAT'S ATTITEM fO LHB. Thackeray aaa Banyan t Vanity fair • what a aynia is -Thackeray'• worldly wisdea; hia llkeacea to rielelag • Thackeray's ragoaa - Hew Thackeray looked apea lifej the world ylndloeted * The moral heeia of the world, Chapter 1. mUBm'1 tflaTOB f* fief « • Thackeray'o fight far the truth - Hia reei oaalbillty aa as anther - Studies ef life - SaoHea - fearleas atteeka against Pwabug - Boeial aatire a duty • Hia erereioa to snoba - hunor aaa satire eerriag the eaae eaaae of truth. •• Chapter 8, SatelaJjsSSj * g other* anthers throe* light aa The oka ray'e eharaoter - "The English Husarists ef the 18th Century" . Swift, the aynia - Thaekerey'e oonteapt far Swift - Booking Gynleien ef Oongrwve - Thaokeray'e dislike far hia eelfiah worldlinaaa . Addiaoa - Steele, aad hia respeet far women . Thaekaray's fondaeas for Steele - Sterne, the eontlaentallet -Thaokeray'e dielike far Steraa - Fielding,the realist . Thackeray's relet ion te fielding. Conolueion. 2. Introduction. It is almost impossible to study any aspect of Thackeray thot has not been touched on before, but numerous aB the critical studies of hia works are, the question of his outlook on life is one which ia still debated. "Biographers cannot agree by what terms he is raost aptly, described:- cynic, satirist, or sentimen-talist. The only way in which to arrive at any satisfactory con-clusion and form a Just opinion, is to study his life and work carefully from this viewpoint, and to compare thorn with those of writers who are universally acknowledged as cynics, satirists or sent imentallsta. She first part of thi*3 st'ady is a treutiuent of tho life and character of Thackeray, a knowledge of which is necessary to a complete understanding cf his writings, from the viewpoint of his outlook on life. A knowledge of tho disappointments, the sorrows and the troubles that overshadowed his days explains the under-current of melancholy found sometimes in his work, rnd gives also, a deeper appreciation for the man who never lost his faith in God or in hitman nature, but through all his trials kept unimpaired the sweetness of his disposition and the joyousness of his hearty humor. Secondly, in his writings, Thackeray constantly appears before hiB readers and speaks in his own person. Bofore wo may believe these statements, we must first know what manner of nan he was, whether he was sinoere and earnest and believed v/hat he preached, or was merely assuming a pose, and know further whether 0, the actions of his private life bear out the teachings of his works* In treating Thackeray's life then, I hare attempted to Civs only thooe facts that throw light on his nature by showing how he roasted against his surroundings, and how his character developed from youth to old age, so that the flret part of this etudy strives to create an atmosphere, rather than to be merely s biographical sketch of Thackeray's life. The second part of this study Is the treatment of Thackeray's writings proper, and strives to show how ths man.sueh as ws found him to bs in the study of his life, expressed his own ersonaiity la his works* when Is flotlon, as Shakespeare in drama* he strove "to show virtus her own features, scorn her own Imago, and ths very ags sad body of ths tins* his form and pressure." "To tell ths truth ss I know It," might have been stamped upon ovvry page he ever created from first to last, and in the study of his collected works I have striven to show what this truth was, and to show that it came from his heart. Thackeray himself realised that "In the course of his volubility the perpetual speaker must »f necessity lay bare his owa weaknesses, vanities, peculiarities. And as we judge of a man's character, efter long frequenting his Soeioty, not by one speech, or by one mood or opinion, or by one day'a talk, but by the tenor of his general bearing and conversation; so you Judge of a writer, r3io dolivoro himself up to ^ ou perforoe unreservedly. '* So in this study of tho life and writings of William Makepeace Thackeray, I have triod to carefully select those details characteristic of the nan and the writer, la his attitude to the world and to M s art and thea lead the reader to form his own opinions of Thackeray's attitude by allowing Thackeray to speak for himself. Part 1. Ohepter 1* William Makepeace Thackeray was born la Calcutta, oa June 16, 1011, the son and grandson of Indian Civil servants. He oame of * good family of the higher middle class, and was able to trace his ancestry book for some hundreds of years. Thackeray's father died in 1816 and M s mother afterwards married Major Carmlehael smyta, later immortalised by Thackeray as Colonel Bewcome. At aa early age the boy was sent to England ead to the Charterhouse School. While there, ho was never remarkably proficient in scholar-ship, spending ^ auoh of the time others devoted to their lessons, in sketching burlesque scenes iron Shakespeare to amuse his classmates; mors than onoe sailing the wrath of Dr. Russell upon his unlucky head because of his idleness; indeed, there is some reason to bo-Have that the famous denunciatioa of young Peadennis by the Doctor of "flreyfriarB", in that most autobiographical of all Thackeray's novels, "Pendenais", is something of a humorous reminisoonoe of Thackeray's owa Charterhouse days. "Peadennis, sir,* the Doctor said, nyour Idleness is ia-oorrlglble sat yowr stupidity beyond example. You are a disgrace to your school, and to your family, and Z have no doubt will prove so la after-life ts your country. If that vice, sir, whloh is 5. described to uo aa the root of ell ovil, be really what moralists hare represented (end I have no Ooubt of the correctness of their opinion! for what a prodigious quantity of ivtxire crime and "ioked-nesr aro you, unhapiy hoy, laying the coed! tlioorable triflorj A boy rho oonstruea 'se omd M*£J*^ s€ but, at nixto^n years of ago, is guilty not merely of folly, und. ir;noranco, and dullness incon-ceivable, but of crime, of deadly crime, of filial ingratitude, \7hich I tremble to contemplate. A boy, sir, who does not learn hie Greek play ohoate the parent who spends money for hie education. A boy who cheats hia parent is not vory far from robbing or forging upon hit neighbor* A man who forges on hia neighbor pays T o penalty of hia orine at the gallows. And it ia not such a ono that I pity (for he will be desorvedly cut off) but his maddened and heart-broken parenta, who are driven to a premature r-ravo by his crir.es, or, if i they live, drag on a wretched and dishonored old ege." The irate Doctor, however, explained himsolf to the boy's undo, Major Pendonnia, "He is a £ood boy, rather idle *.nd unenergetic, but an honest gentle-manlike little fellow, t! ough I can't got him to construe as 1 wish." This latter statement may be fairly t?kon as descriptive of Thaekoray at en early a--e, as contemporary opinion m a that he was a good-tempered, kind-^oertod lad rho gave no oigns of the eminence he later attained, oeoming to bo, posses, ed of no ;articular gifta other than a good memory and e gift of acquiring languages. To nuote from "Pendennis" again, "He never read to improve himself out of school hours, but, on the contrary, devoured all the novels, plays, and poetry, on which he could lay hia hands." a dk.T- ($. it>-n. CJ,.T. p.ig-. ei-J-P'.tf-G. It is interesting to not© that oven young as he was, he ire-forrod oerious writ ere to the morely humorous, a trait that was afterwards marked in the writer and stylist that he became. It ie equally interesting to r.ote the boys oarly bent towards humorous parodies, whioh show a strong sense of humor and an eye for the ridiculous. Hie boyish r«**ody celled "Cabbages" of an ultra-sentimental ballad named "Violets" is amusing in the extreme, ohow-ing as it does a disgust for aewkichness and feeble sentiment, which later proved the source of his inimitable parodies and burlesques. Truly, the child was father to the man. At Cambridge, Thackeray spent two years, during which time he continued to read widely. Among hie fellow students wore the Tennysons, the Lushiagtone, Hallam, John Allen, who became the proto-type of Dobbin, and other men who succeeded in making thoir mark in the world. Suoh friendships must have meant a great deal to a nan like Thaokeray, for as Bagehot says, the value of an Kn^aish uni-versity training consists nore in the youthful friendships there formed with fellow-students and contemporaries then in the actual studios and examinations. This statement is rather arbitrary but very true in the main, and Anthony Trollo^o is surely quite unjuetified in thinking that the time Thackeray spent in the Univo eity could havo been better employed olsorhore. At the very least, "It fixed his social stfius. Though afterwards ho was,consort rith Bohemians and other etr&uge ac-quaintances into xThloh a man is forced by advoreity, ho was navor a ' Bohemian and altrays faibjiful to the traditions of the cluas iu which <•* U m^iUu -f-cuLM. 7. b o m end bred." 1 3o that he preferred always the society of hie equals and disliked anything vulgar or low. While at Cambridge, Thackeray contributed to a little peps* called "The Saob". In thie appeared hia amusing burlesque poem, "Simbuctoe'.V r^ich was " unluckily not finished on the day appointed for delivery of the several copies,* to the University authorities, otherwise, we are led *-o believe, the prise would undoubtedly have fallen to ite share* Be contributed also to a continuation of HThe Snob" called, "The townsmen* edited by Bdw&rd Fltsgerald. Thackeray did not diatlnguleh himself in hia ctudiee, but enjoyed rather nore the so-eial aide of the College life* and was nar&r too osoupisd to attend supper parties, rhere someone has deroribed him as " not talkative but rather observant." In 1800 ho loft the University to travel in JSurope* He visited Parle, but spent most of his time at eimar in Qcrraanyi '"here ho met Seethe. 2uoh as he admired Goethe, he nevertheless had a greater appreciation for Schiller, which is to be expected, as his £>ttuohmont to the ordinary aaM^sofaaoaplaee, probably oaused him to find "Faust" too metaphysical, while his tender heart would feel the appeal of the lore of l-.om in "Mlliem Toll? Thackeray*s Judgments almost invariably cane from the heart rathor thaa^Uoold intellect. In 1851, on rot-urning from the continent, Thackeray otudied law. Hia character 1stic attitude to this period of hie .life is well summed up ia "fsndennis? and contains the same sentiments expressed *&*lJ**.*.. JLJuvuu. "cX.l£/..s». 8. in lettere to his mother at this tine. "*r. Arthur Pendennis and hii friend UT, Warrington are retttrnlng from aona of their wild expeditions. Row differently employed Hr. relay has been! He has not been throwing liinat»lf araey; he haa only been bringing a greet intelloct laboriouely down to the comprehension of a mean aubje©t, and in hia fieroo grasp of that, roaolutely excluding from his Bind all higher thoughts, all bettor things, all the wisdom of philosophers eat historians, all the thought a of . o-'n; nil -it, fancy, reflect-ion, ait, lore, truth altogether - BO f may master that en-ormoua le. ana of the law, which ha proposea to gain hia livelihood by expounding. flaWfiigton rnd Paley had been co^otltors for uc-lTOrsity honoro in "oraer days, and had rum each other hart, sad ovnryhody said now that the former was wanting hia time and anergicc, vhiiet all people loy for his industry, there say bo doubts, however, as to •, ?iioh was using his time best. The one couit afford tins to think, the other aoror could, the one co-.ad have syspathiee and do kiadneaaest and the other must needa be always Belfiah. fie could not cult irate a friaadehlp or do a charity, or admire a *t>rk of genius, or kindle at the eight of beauty or the oound of a sweet t>ong - he had no tiiae, and no eyee for anything bus his law books. All waa dark outaide hia reading lamp* lore, and feature, and Art (whioh la the expreeaioa of our praise ami sense of the beautiful world of God) were shut out from him. And as he turned: Off his lonely lamp at ni^ht, he nmr thought but that ho had epent the day profitably, and west $* **•*» «Uka thankless and remorseless. •' d\- yy.iv ,- kp, 311* - Airr-9. Thackeray's letter to his mother in thiB connection is almost identicel in sentiment. "The lawyers prepejtory education is cer-tainly one of the most cold-blooded, prejudiced pieces of invention that ever a man was slave to," he wrote, "Afollow should properly do and think nothing else than L.A.W. Uever mind, I begin to find out that people are much wiser than I am (which is a rare pieoe of modesty in me); and that old heads do better than young ones, that is in their generation, for I am sure that a young nan's ideas however absurd and rhapsodical they are, though they mayn't smack so much of experience as these old calculating codgers, contain a great deal more nature and virtue. "* With such ideas, it followed naturally that he never continued Steadily at law - fortunately for the world. Hie whole attitude in this matter was characteristic In a word, any pursuit that tended to smother the emotions, that depended entirely upon cold intellect to the exclusion of heart, Thackeray always disliked. It is not surprising then to find him in 183S, the editor and <roprietor of the "lational Standard" and Journal of Literature, Science, Music, Theatricals, and tho Tine Arts," a twopenny weekly. In 1832, Thackeray had cone of age, succeeded to a comfortable income, part of which he laid out in the purchase of the above men-tioned weekly. The paper staggered along under the l^igh^ °* its stupendous and terrifying name, for about five months after Thackeray assumed control, but failing to win a paying circulation, came to an end, much to the owner's sorrow. Eeverthelese, he profited by the dk ru± b. -3 s- 7. i &&A&1 hia^, /Sr4a.) 1 . osjorionco, end I t s'-ema reaconuble to believe that l~v. Batcholor, in "Lovol tV» T"idorprM voiced Thackeray's own fee l ings , "!Thoy are wel-come to nrS» w r r y r t ny eharr-oe . . . I dare nay I pr-Uitod ny own eon-aotn, ny own tra~cfly, ny own verges . . . I dareeay I wrote c a t i r i o a l n r t lo lee in which I piqued nyoelf on the flnoneae of my v/lt tmd cr i t io lGa . . . I f thou liact nover boon a fool , bo aura thou wi l t OBVQT be ft viae num."1 Young an he ^ao, disappointment never made Thaofceray b i t t e r . There was no elements of oyaioimB in the nature that oould r coxt fa i lure and troublo BO pa t ien t ly die-ost tho b i t t e x morsel ao quiet ly find learn the leoeon of experience with auoh for t i tude . Aftar the fa i lu re of h is paper, Thaokeray turned to r&iating, and decided to malte Art h i s profeaeion. Ha choee J axis as h ie heed-quart ?**B, ?here ha led a happy, boh-wnian existence, rexninisoeaoes of which, both sorioua and huraorous, are eoatterefl throughout tho "Paris Sketch Book." WhUJ* studying tho a r t ho loved, Tljaokoray spent a oo&slderablo port ica of h ie t ine in the picture j a i l e r i e e , studying na& copying pr in t ings . His oseoxvptiojis and oritioiame of what he car, tl rov? FJT Illuminating li^-ht upon hie character, so the i r i no i i l oo r!.ioh ho " T O defined Tor a r t , are those sane £i*eat fundar/iontale which lay at the basis of his nr tura , which guided the actions of hie l i f e , aafi which Tnanifonted theaealvee in hie a t t i tude to l i t e r a t u r e . In hie plea for a re turn to nature in Art, he eays, "Mow ae Ptturo r.*Ae every nan with a rope nod eyes of hie own, eho gave him a chnractor of hie own too; md yot we, 0 foollah raoo! must t r y our very beat to ape some one or two' of our neighbors, who BO idaae f i t ue no mora than the i r breeohea! I t ia the etudy of nature, suraly, that p rof i t s ue , and not of theee imitations of her . A nan, aa a nan Voi. A * . et>-T. j* tc. 11 . froo a dustman up to Aonchylua, ip Ood'a vork, and ~ood to read as a l l thorite of nr ture - r e ; but tho " I l l y nLtftrd iu never oontont; f i s ever t rying to f i t i t s e l f into another shape, ran ts to deny i t a own iden t i ty , r>M has .not the oouwgo to u t to r i t s ov?n thoughts . . . . At home, the in to le rab le , stnpi? claeeicr.Xitloa drove then ; -,y from natura l beauty, which* thank God, in fresh an£ a t ta inable bpt uo a l l , to-day and yesterday, rnd tomorrow; and sent tl^eaj rambling af te r a r t i f i c i a l grace without the /.roper roetuia of ju&giag or a t ta in ing i t . Corns down, e l l l y Daedalus, eo^o dwvn to the lowly places in viiioh Hature ordered you t o TTalk. The aw<*ot flovror3 are springing the re ; the pleasant sun shines there ; be content and humble, end take your share of the good ohoer and plrirt m n ' s philosophy."* lie attacked sham the re , v/liate^er v?as not natural ov6 fr^nh. There i s no h in t of Misanthropy, or denial of tho e3c.intenee of *7hot i s f a i r and good} on the oofttr-ry, :.3 atteoicad "stupid o laas ioa i i t los" because the "ev/oot flcwora" vr.T springing and "the pleasant aun" ohlning before the vory eyes of tho no vrtio v/ovld not see t!em, rnd be-ocuee t h i s natural beauty i s "thank God fresh and at ta inable by ue a l l . " Just as r.e wct&fi expect then, ho uiallhod huge, "heroic" paint ings . "Penoy," j 0 sa id , "Eavid'a euau culot te Laoaidas'etar-iag perpetually in your face! . . . I think in my heart I «i feeder of p re t ty , th i rd- ro te p l e t r r s s IhtA of your great , thr.'-Sozing f i rs t r r t e s . " Concluding .la fcho true tlmoJaoryux vein, "Lot us thank heavon, ray. dear s i r , for according to us i;he ; oT-ore to t a s t e and appreciate the ploacrres of mediocrity. 1 htive never* h»ard tht*t re trere groat fcJ> V 3 - 5 T 0 . P - 5"N. 12. geniuses. Earthly are we, and of the 9irth, glimpses of the sub-^  lime are but rare to ue ...let us thankfully remain "below, being merry and humble. "-1-Girodet's preen "Delude" he disliked. "The oia father," he wrote, is represented ^ith a bag of money in his hand, and the tree, which the man catches, is cracking, and just on the roint of giving ray. These two poinds ^ere considered very fine by the critics: they are two such ghastly epigrams as contIc-ially disfigure French Tragedy. For thiB reason I have never been able to road Racine with pleasure, - the dialogue is so crammed with these lugubrious good things - melancholy antitheses, - sparkling undertaker's 'jit; but this is heresay and had better be spoken di^cre^tly."3 It may be noted in passing, that the cynicr-3 art of the painte that represented nan as clinging to moneybags, vhen almost in the presence of his Wak^r, was Pis-rusting to Thackeray, and not only disgusting but false. The same taste for simplicity and the crirersion of v.hat is beautiful in Art, he expressed nore forcibly, ieter in life; end as before, the sane dictum applies with equal truth to Literature. He deranged the *;ruth of TIature in rrtiBtic creations - and truth with beauty. He disliked *he "broad-PhotCLdored, svagiering, hulk-ing archangel" of " ^ dor.'s pictures, but even tuore, he hated sordid realismt and die* not believe that horrors, even *"hen artistically portrayed were true art, "loing "monstrous, livid, dreadful as the drear, of r man in ~c rlet fever." Charles l»mdsoei-'s "Honks of RubroBe" was "not only good," he remarked, "but had some further good quality of being pleasant. And sfter seeing Poole's picture / P AAJLA skmk flt>J} a, - J W . f>-S"«t. /3 -5T3 13. of "Solomon Eagle and the Plague oi '. ondonk" he asked, nn?uld it not he better to te-pt the public with something more good-humored?" Cuce more we have bhe r,ene fch^me touohed on in "Our Street," hut in a playful way. ks usual, however, Thackeray the serious artist, speaks behind the mask of comedy. "George Rrmbold, while at Rome, Tainted 'Onractacus*; a picture of fhvn(vM& (usfd^aeE ' of course; a picture of 'Alfred in the Neatherd's Cottage', seventy-two feet by forty-eight - ( an idea of the gigantic nise ex Michel - Angelesque proportions of this picture may bo formed when I state that the mere muffin, of which the outcast king is spoiling the baking, is two-feet-three in diameter.) Hone of George's pictures 30ld. He hps enough to tapestry Trafalgar Square. He has painted, since he oame back to England, 'The .Flaying of Marsyas', 'The Smothering of tho Little Boys in the Tower1,' *A t'lague Scene during the Great Postflence*, 'Ugolino on the Seventh Day After He Was Deprived of Victuals,' etc. Jox although ihesbe liotares have groat merit ana the writhings of Marsyas, the convulsions of the little prinoos, the look of agony on St. Lawrence on the grldii-on etc/, are juite t-nze to aatore, yot the subjects, somehow, are not agreeable; and if ho hadn't a small patrimony , my friend Geox-ge 1 \ ould starve." Once core, sxeaking seriously of British Art, he says, r,1Zvery succeeding year shows a progress in the English school of painters. They paint from the hoart nore than of old, and less from the old heroic, abeurd, incomprehensible, unattainable rules. They look at 14. nature very hard, rnS watch her with the best of their eyes and ability... The young painters pre content to C3;;rci8«i their art on subjects less exalted: a gentle seijttiment, an agreeable auiet in-cident, a tea-t^ble trcgedy, or a braad-and-butts* idyll suffices for the most uart for their gentle powers. Hot surely ought one to quarrel at all with this prevalent node. It is at loaet natural, which the heroic is not. Broad and butter car. be digested by overy man; whereas Prometheus on his rock, cr Orestes in his strai^tt waistcoat, or Hector dragged behind Achilles' car, or Britannia guarded by Religion and Fepfune, welcoming General Tonkins in the Temple of Slcry - the ancient, heroic, allegorical subjects, - can be supposed deejly to interest Tez-y few of the inhabitants of this city or kingdom, ^e have wisely given up jure tending that wo wero interested in such, and confess to a partiality for more simple and homely themes. In srt and literature there is a higher ingredient in beauty than mere form; a skilful hand is only the second artistic quality, worthless without the first, which i«=> a great heart. ,1 These nrt criticises, written when Thackeray wee a young nan, and as yot merely a journalist, are significant. They show the ideas, the tastes, the sentiments, and to a limited extent, the character, of the man that we will later Tin*! in the great novels, writton when Thackeray was middle-aged; the love of naturalness and truth, the hatred cf sham, the pleasure in what is agreeable and ffood, and the insistence on the necessity of h a v i n g ^ , . quality of ^ . great heart." ' 16. But Thackeray did not confine himself to the study of pictrres alone, wb'le at Paris. Ho was intensely interested in the life around him, and his ovservations of iron and things pre summed up in t , the i&pers he wrote 8t this time, now collected under tho title of the "laris Sketch Book?- These papers show that his powers of observation were in no wey dimmed by the social pleasurea of laris which he en-joyed, and that the man as wo ere to Imovi him by his later i/ritings, was already praotloally formed. Staler Snythe, Thackeray's stepfather, ht-d at ;his tine "borrhO an interest in a paper called the "Constitutional", and .^s in the case Of the "Bational Standard',1 he and Thackeray soon bought the paper outright. Thcckeray was Paris correspondent, and reported on the so-cial, literary and artistic manners and customs of the country These reports are contained in the "Peris Oketoh Boo;:." Although rather unequal, as one rould expect they nevertheless display that same wholesome trste for the same In literature that he exhibited in Art, ?-nd a hearty contenrt for the vicious toac} Ln^s under a sentimental gnrh, **hat the vltra-Poraantieiets wore so inclined to in-dulge in. Thackeray never changed In regard to fchis matter; boy or man ho hated the bathos of oozing sentimentalism. On one occosi.cn "hen a boy it school, he began to read Shelley's "Revolt of Islam." "It is an odd hind of book," ho inferred his Mother in a letter, "containixig poetry which wmld induce me to read it through and sen-timents vrhioh iiight strongly incline one to throw it in the fire." 16. When he began to really attacV .literature of this kind, HS he did in his T&ris correspondence, he showed the seme common sonse and proper regard for values that Inter made the moral foundation of his great novels so firm. His indignation against unwholesome literature, when sufficiently aroused, led hiu to bitter egression. For'example, George Sand's novel "Spiridlon,'' that attests to scDvo the mysteries of the universe, he treated under the head of "Hadam Sadtd and the lew Apocalypse," "She cannot say - is it not extraordinary? - how many centuries have been necessary before man could pass from the brutal state to his present condition, or how many age a will be required ero we may pass from the state of man to the state of angel3? Fhat the deuce is the use of chronology or philosophy? - We were beasts and wo can't toll when our tails dropped off: we shall be angels; but when our wings are to begin to sprout, who knows? In the meantime, 0 man of genius, follow our counsel: leod an easy life, don't stick at trifles? jmrver mind about'duty', it is only made for slaves* if the ' orld reproach you, reproach the world in turn, you have a good loud tongue in your head: if your strait-laced morals injure your mental respiration, fling off the old-fashioned stavs: and when you have grown pretty sick of your liberty, and yet unfit to return to restraint, o\irse the world, and scorn it, be miserable, like my Lord Byron and other philosophers of his kidney: or else mount a step higher, and, with conceit still more monstrous, and mental vision still more wretchedly debauched and weak, begin suddenly to find yourself afflicted vdth maudlin com-passion for the human race, and desire to set them right after your 17. orn fashion. There is the quarrel come stage of drunkenness when a man con as yet wplk and speak, when he can cell names, and fling Xlatee end wine-glrsses at his neighbor's head with a pretty good aim: after thin comes the pathetic stage, when the patient becomes wondrous philanthropic and weeps wildly, as he lies in the gutter and frncles he is at home in bed - where he ou&ht to be ... The leaves of the Diderot and Bousseau tree have reduced this goodly fruit: here it is, ripe burs-ting, end repdy to fall: - and how to fall? Keavon send that it may drop easily, for all can see that the time is come."1 Part 1. hapter 2. The retrjrn of Thr?>orpy to England, marked the turning r>ejnt in h i s l i f e , for from th i s time on, he defini te ly e(lo:ted a l i t e r a r y career. Thus f r r , re have seen unfolding, the powers of the young man, irom the time of his boyhood, together with h is undefined., yet none the l ess evident, a t t i tude tc l i f e , and hia embryo Ideals of v/liat ar t and l i t e r a tu r e should he. Prom th i s t ine on, the promises of h is youth wore real ised, md we ^ind him giving fu l l eg res s ion to the idealB thot animated him Y,*>lle at i l l 2 boy: set t ing out on a crusade against unhealthy l i t e r a t u r e , attacking sham in society, and t rying to paint l i f e as he saw i t , in h i s novels, always believing that "In a r t and l i t e r a t u r e there La a higher ingredient in beauty than roe-e form; a ski l ful hand i s only '.he second a r t i s t i c quality, 18. worthless without the first, which is B preat heart." The fortune which Thackeray hafl inherited upon coming of a<*e was BOOH dissipated, mainly through tho failures of the "national Standard'' and the "Constitutional? and through the failure of an Indian Bank. It is reported that he lost n considerable amount of money at cards elso. T?o use his oral words, he came +-o London "as innocent as I.Ionsieur Oil Bias" and wcs "devoured in his turn"** hy social rohbers. But he bore his Deuceace -who swindled him out of fifteen hundred pounds no particular malice, for, seeing him© ma-ny years leter, in straitened oireurstencos, Thackeray remarked, to Sir Theodore Martin, with pity in his voice, "loor devill my money doesn't seem to have thriven with him." Loans to needy friends also carried away some of hie money. "All through mQ life" says Eerm* r.. "erivale, "ThacJcoray gave away in loans and grists a far greater part of his monies than prud-enee advised. Eo see distress and try to alleviate it ware two simultaneous impressions.' About this time then, probably as early as 1834, ho brc-;an to contribute to "Eraser's Magazine," and the journalist began to develop into the future novelist. Just as his boyiah attempts at "writing had been parcdics of sickly sentimental ballads, so hie de-finite work of a more serious natiire took the form of satire. At thiB period, novels of the type of "Eugene Aram" and "Jack Shepherd'/ were very, popular. Thackeray saw the unwholesome effects of such reeding and ?voredly set himself to counteract the incurious in-P- a*fe <p-f§3- r 'vv> p. a>*-. 19. fluenee that made lie roe a of criminals and robbers and aroused a false sympathy for vicious characters of this kind. Accordingly, he selected the story of a low woman, Catherine Hayes, who had murdered her husband, to satirize the "Sales of Old Bailey" or n2o-manoes of Syburn Sree ' (as he called them). In this story, he pro-posed that the "whole fiewgate Calendar Bhouia be travestied aiter the manner of 'Eugene Aram,'"~ as in the oase of the earlier "Elisa-beth Brownrigge." i'hat Thackeray had no objection to taking a rogue as the hero of a novel, is seen in "Barry iyndon," but he insisted it was bad art as well as downright immorality to confuse vice and virtue. As he pointed out later, in his study of Yielding, "Vice is never to bo mistaken for -virtue in Fielding's honest 'downright hooks, and it goes by its name, but invariably gets its punishment. See the consequences cf honesty* L!any a squeamish lady of our time would throw down one of these romances in horror, but would go through every page of Mr. Ainsworth's 'Jack Shepherd' with perfect comfort to herself. Ainsworth dared not Iaint his hero as the scoundrel he knew him to he. He must keep His brutalities in the background else the public mcrals will be outraged and uo, he rreduces a book quite absurd and unreal, and infinitely mora immoral than any-thing Fielding ever wrote. 'Jack Shepherd' is immoral actually be-cause it is decorous. The Spartans who used to show drunken slaves to their children took care no doubt, that the slave should be really and truly drunk; sham drunkenness, which never passed the limits of propriety would be rathera* object to incite youth to intoxication r V*TiIi~ p. HI*. Tttf.Tl, bj>.t >-**'/ 20. 0 than to deter him from it, and the same late revels have always struck us in the same light."' When "Catherine" was finished, (Feb. • 1840) and evoked a storm of abuse, Thackeray was delighted. It had achieved it end. He himself, was pleased when the end was reached and wrote, "Having finished our dolectable meal it behooves us to say a word or two by way of grace at its conclusion, and to be heart-ily thankful that it is over. It has "been the writer's object oare-fully to exclude from his drama any characters but those of scoundrels of the vary highest degree. That he haB not altogether failed in the object he had in view, is evident from some newspaper Critiques which ho lias had the good fortune to see; and which abuse the tale of "Catherine" SB one of the c/ollept, most vulgar, d.nd ixaCiCral works ertant. It is highly gratifying to the author to line, bh«t cuch opinions are abroad, rs the; convinoe him that the taste for Eewgate literature is on the wane; tad that when the public critic iias right down vndisguicod immorality sat "before him, the lowest creatine ie shocked at it, as he should be, ^nd can decio.ro his indignation in good ro -0.C terras of :buse. Che characters of the tale are humoral and no doubt of it, but the urijjj-r ivoiubly hopes the end is not so. The public was in our notion, ioscu and poisoned by the prevailing style of literary practise, end it was necessarybto administer some medicine that would produce a wholesome Wausea, and afterwards bring about a mere healthy habit, uau, thank Iteaven, this effect has been produced in very uany instances, and the 'Catherine' c&thartic has acted moat efficaciously. The author has been .leased at the die*uet «/. M£/ £-/> •?'-**. 21. which his work has escited, and has watched with benevolent care-fulness, the wry faces that have been made by many of the patients who have swallowed the dose." The bodk concludes "Be it granted that Solomons I Catherine* was written under the pen-name of Ikey Solomons) is dull, hut don't attack his morality; he humbly submits that, in hie poem, no man shall mistake virtue for vice, no man shall allow a single sentiment of pity or admiration to enter his bosom for any character of the piece; it being from beginning to end, a scene of unmixed rascality, performed by people who never deviate into good feeling, and although he doth not pretend to equal the great modern authors whom he hath mentioned, in wit or des-criptive power; yet, in the point of moral, he meekly believes that he has been their superior: feeling the greatest disgust for the oharacters he describes and Using his humble endeavor to cause i the public also to hate them." That this attitude was not a pose, but a genuine attempt to disclose vice is quite evident from a re-mark he made on the subject of "Catherine," in a letter to his mother. "It is a disgusting subject and no mistake. It was a mistake all through. It was not made disgusting enough that was the fact, and the triumph of it would have been to make readers so horribly horrified as to cause them to give up, or rather throw up, the book and all its kind." In his "Hovels by Sminent fends," that appeared later, he burlesqued this Uewgate fiction in a way that is delight-fully amusing. The piecw in question is oalled "George Ae Barnwell" and travesties Bnlwer-Iytton's "Eugene Aram," The style is inimit-able, and that lover of the ideal, the hero, who murders his unole merely to benefit mankind, attudinizos through the pages with all the high-souled eloquence so dear to lord lytton. Even though I CcJSsAJukt. . >)(£• J « . by the blind justice of his country, nevertheless all who knew him love and admire him for his high principles. "Yes,indeed, my "brave youth," the "benevolent Br. Fruswig exclaimed, clasping the Prisoner's marhle and manacled hand; "the Tragedy of Tomorrow (the execution of the hero) will teach the world that Homicide Is not to be permitted even to the most amiable Genius, and that the lover of the Ideal and the Beautiful, as thou art, my son, crust respect i the Heal likewise.* Here the moral is as cleverly and completely driven home, but this tine, in an amusing way. It is remarkable i> how Thackeray, in his burlesques, invariably teaches the lessons that he more palpably discloses in his serious work, His humor Is always something more than mere fun. Definitely now, Thackeray set out on a erusade against sham, as earnestly and sincerely as ever Carlyle did. The only great fundamental difference between the two men is that Thackeray had a highly developed sense of P*& and Carlyae's humor assumed the guise of irony, so that Thackeray's sharp eye for the ridiculous Often caused him to stop while delivering his sledge-hammer blows, and laugh. Once more, false sentiment in all its forms was attacked. " It is hardly necessary to examine these books end Aesigne one by one;* he wrote, speaking of the Annuals of verse and art that many maga-sines published yearly, " they all bear the same character and are exaotly like the 'Book of Beauty,' 'Flowers of loveliness' and so on, Uef.ie. hti>. £8* which appears* la s t year. A large, weak plate, a woman badly drawn wit* enorsous eyes - a tear, perhaps, upon each cheek - an sisssftijjgly loir cut tress - pets a greyhound or weeps Into a flower-pot, or t e l l rers a l e t t er to a bandy-legged, curly-headed page. As Immense train of white satin r i U s tap one corner of the plate; an turn, a etone rai l ing, a fountain, and a bunch of hollyhocks adorn the other: fhs picture I s signed Sharpe, Parrls, Corbould, Cor-beaux, Jenkins, Brown, as ths ease nay be, ana Is enti t led, "The Pearl, • ' la Dolorosa,• 'La Diondina* 'Le Gaged <^ 'Amour, • *The tforssKen One of Florence,' 'The Water l i l y ' or eome such name. Miss Lenfton, H a s Mitford, or «y Lady BlesslngtOB writes a song upon the oproeite page about *1?ater Lily, * Chilly , s t i l l y , shivering beside a strean-Sst , plighted, blighted, loT»-banighted, falsehood sharper* than a gtaflLst, l e s t effeetion, recollection, out connexion, tears In torront-St true love-token, spoken broken, sighing, dying g i r l of Florenoe; rnd so on. The roetry i e -roite worthy of the picture and a l i t t l e sham sentiment i s employed to i l lustrate a l i t t l e sham art . . . I t cannot be supposed that Hiss Landon, a woman of genius - Miss Mlt-ford, a lady of exquisite wit and taste - should of their own accord s i t down to indite a namby-pamby verses about s i l l y , half-deoent pictures; or that Jenkins, Parris, Meadows and Co. are not fatigued by this time, with the paltry labor assigned to then. Who sets them this rretohed work? . . . The publishers of these prints allow that the taste i s execrable which renders suoh abominations popular. 24. "but the public will "buy nothing else, and the rublio oust he fed. The painter perhaps admits that he ahuses his talent (that noble -ift of God which ~as given him for a hettor purpose than to cater f the appetites of faded debauchees); but he must live, and ho has no other resource." And as always, Thackeray1• purpose hero is to educate the public taste. In the same connection, a glance at "Codlingsby" (Hovels by Eminent Eaords) Is suggestive. Ajayone who has read any of Lord Beaconsfleld's novels, such as "Endymion" or "Coningsby" cannot but enjoy the exquisite fun thatls made of the euthor'e over-ornate style and Romantienlly exaggerated situations and sentiment. In Thackeray's "Ocdlingsby," we meet the mysterious Jew, Xafael L!en-doxa, who leads the hero through hie dirty second-hand shop to a wonderful suite in the rear. "The carpet, says Thackeray, "was of rhite velvet....painted with flowers, arabesques end clascie figur-es by Sir William Ross, j. M/ W.. Turner , R.A., Mrs. Mee, Paul Delaroehe. The edges were wrought with aeed pearls end fringed with Valenciennes lace and bullion." but boot of all, and still in this vein of goreoue nonsense that nevertheless shows up Ro-mantic extravagance Is "Bprhazure." It opens »lth a true Radoliff-lan note, "The rosy tints of the declining luminary w?re gilding the peaks and crags which lined the path, through which the horse-men wound slowly...and as these eternal battlements with which Ma-ture had hemmed in the ravine which our travellers trod, blushed with the last tints of the fading sunlight, the valley below was Vt£. it. p.isri. (CtJiuijUy) Vtt* IS*. 26. grey end darkling, and the hard and devious course *>»« sombre In tiiHight." Then came the hero, Romano de Glos-Vougoot, aooom-paaled by hie kinsman Phllibert de Coquelieot Romane, "who boe-tSjpde the noble beast was In sooth rorthy of the steed rhioh bore M B * Both rere eaparleoned in the fullest trappings of feudal •war. The arblaet, mangonel, the deLii-oulverin and the euiosart ef the perioft; jlittered upon the neck and chest of the war nteod; While the rider, Tith ehamfron and catapult, trlth ban and crriore ban, morion and tumbrel, battle-axe and rifflard, cad the other appttrtenancoo of ancient chivalry, rode stately on hie oteol clad charger, himeelf a torer of steel*" Ihlllbert discloses the faloo-neee of Romano's love, F#tima, and her marriage to D^rbasure. "rith that scream which is eo terrible la a strong man in agony, the brave knight sank back at the words, and fell from hie charger to 2, the ground, a l i f e l e s s mess of s tee l ." Then, shrdes of Iv«nhoe! semes the Sournament. "The three mullets on a pules ***yy, r©Y*»ra«»d, surmounted by the einople ootiehant Or, tho well-ltnora oofTtisrnee of the house, biased on a hundred banners.. . . TTo champion oorld be found to faee him.. . until a knight in pink j»rr»cur redo into the l i s t s with his ,visor dorn. The horrific caked him his name and and auallty. •Call me,* esift he, in a hollow voice, 'the Ji l ted Knight.' What was i t made the 3>dy of Barbamre tremble at Ms accents?"5 In some of Thackeray^ attacks on the unhealthy in l l t o n t u r e , he went too far, especially in his attasks on Bulwer- Lytton's "Iraest Multravers," rhere he became personal and abusive. The "Xellowpliish Correspondence" also hite at lytton, under the name {IZAAlcJftM.) let- iv: p.si, A>-s*-20. of "Bulwig." But Thackeray in his capacity of critic, had be-come nauseated hy repeated dosec of un-rholesome literature and can he forgiven these attacks. Miss Landon's "Ethel Churchill" pleased him rith its wit and cleverness, hut he found it also unhealthy. "OhI oh! for a little r.anly, hone~t, God-relying sim-plicity - cheerful, unaffected ana humble! he wrote at this time. later, when he had the leisure to look hack on this period of his life, he wrote, "I suppose we all hegin hy heing too savage. I know one who did," and in 1861, a common friend wrote1 to lytton, "I saw ThaeVorsy at Folkestone. He spole of you a great deal and said he would have gien worlds to have burnt some of his writings, especially some lampoons written in his youth. He wished so muoh to see you and express his contrition." Later still, Thackeray him-self wrote to Lytton on the subject of these "careless papers written at an early period" I own to a feeling of anything hut pleasure in reviewing some of these juvenile, mis-shapen creatures which the publisher has disinterred and resuscitated. I ask par-don of the author of 'The Cartons' for a lampoon, which I know he himself has forgiven and which I wish I could recall." Although these early magazine articles are interesting for the insight that they give into the character and ideals of Thacker-ay, they are not remarkable in themselves for style or matter, or are they such as would arouse universal attention. As a consequence, they scarcely advanced Thackeray's fame. But disappointing as this Vot-i, e^ -jiD f,^o. P**i£> must have been to "him, a still deeper rorrow, the tragedy of hie life, rnc In store for him. In 18H7, Thackeray hr»d married Iscbella Shawe, rn £rish jrlrl, the daughter of Oolonel Matthew S>awo, by whom he had three doubt-ers, Anne (Mrs. Richmond Ritchie) J«ne,(who died In childhood),^ ond Harriet (Ens* Leslie Stephen.) Tile short porloft of domestic life was Tery happy* Easy years afterward, he wrote to Mr. Cvnge, "I was married ?t your »*£•© with four hundred pounds paid by a newspaper rhleh failed six months efter-crAs, ?nd <»lways love to hoar of a young fello- •{•"•ting his fortune bravely in this tray. If I ocn see my to help yon, I rill. Though ray marriage was a wreck, as yon \now, I would do it over again, for behold Lore is the crown and oonpletion of all earthly rood. A man who is efraid of his fortune never deserved one* I wish you the very best. The rery bent and pleasantost house I ever knew in my life had bat three hundred pounds to fcs*p it." In 1840 Era. Threkeray feecoae ill rad finally lost her mind. Her husband waited on her with the utmost devotion and tenderness, and rhen it ires found she was incurable, he had her placed in re-tirement end well eared for. This is a painful time in his life to linger over. He was torribly lonely, but he never paraded his grief, What he suffered can only be read between the lines. "I cn^rJr live without the tenderness of some woman," he wrote with his characteristic mixture of laughter and toars, "and I expect when I am sixty, I shall be marrying a girl of eleven or twelve, innocent, barley-sugar-loving,, in a pinafore."* One day Trollopo'e groom eaid to him, "I hear you have written a book upon Ireland and are always making fun of the Irish; you don't like us." Thackeray's eyes filled with tears, and he replied, turning away his head, "God help me/ all that I loTOd hoot la tho M>U la XrUh."' (Us wifa.) laawiaf thaao thlaga, tha r m i » t of BoailX ^ U a *haa a ftaapa* •oaalaf, "Hi Ml how aaiak tho daya ara f l i tt ing! Z mlad taa of a tina that'a goaa. Whoa how I'd t i t aa nowVm • i t t lag, l a this aaaa plaoo - hot not alnna. A fair youa* far* waa aaatlat aaar no, A tear/aaar faooloolp»d_fondly up, tat awootiy apoka or.'' ore'a no oao now to ohara ay oap! * But Thackeray waa poo*, and had Ma ohildraa to provida for, and i t waa the thought of thoir uoirera that animated, fha roaaladar of hla l i f e . Haaring, on one oocesion of a lady who diad with griaf upon her husbf-nd'o death, ho remarked, " Bed eho aaaa Ira. X - , the washorwomaa, with sixteen c" lldron to .rovide Tor, aha would not linve died." "1 aat up • en ax,: *ro t:.e« of their r ," he -old ilro. Broufcfiult, "i t la my pleasure to t o l l them how hunhlo-nlndad I "other me ." H Spaakiag of hla children, "Thank Erne I both the | M l hatw ptanty of fun oat ha* aor^he once e, , loV^Maa l fsai ^*.J S.fr. «d.-St aafi-oi.JBI, 1 Up to thia time hie Ufa hat amah mora of unhappiaaoa than joy, aa MarlvaXa points out. "Fortune los t , taloata uareoegniaed, second child daad, wifa mat, - It i s a wondor ha Ait not hoooaa a aooond Su-ifft, laahiag tha world aat hfcaaalf with a oaraga aatiret ilaaphawlag at God, ouraiaf at man, aneering at goot aat aril alika. Zaataat, tha groat sorrow ahaatoned is coal, aat made hla l a te r writings moro ajuapafhalla than his earl ier; »nd the only use ho 89. made of his grand power of sarcasm was to eM-tle, nearly always with a gentle hand, Kis follie? of M s fellow-rsaa in the endeavor to show to them the path of honor, virtue, goodness pnd mercy which he himself endeavored to follow.n After his wife beeume insane, Thackeray "became a frequenter of some of the better clubs in London. He was not yet thirty years old, and he craved companionship. Ee was rejected at the Athen-aeum, hut he took the rejection in good 3:art. "There must be thou-sands of men to whom the pjactiee of ridicule must he very offensive: doesn't one see such in Society, or in one's ovn family? Persons whom nature has not gifted wijrh a senoe of "amor. Didn't I tell you o&ce before that I fell frightened almost at the kindness of people regarding me? May we all "be honest fellows and keep our heads from 2" too muoh vanity. Thackeray was enrolled the following year a3 a "rerson of distinguished eminence'.' Ee was also an original memher of the Fielding Club, -hose nam' he chose himself, m d of "Our Club." Concerning him, Jeaffreson, historian of dQ*rClub", writes, "I can-not conceive him to have everffcoaa &mt to grer ter r.dventa~e than when he was sitting with a p?rty of congenial comrades at 'Our Club,' gossiping tenderly about dead authors, artiste and actors, or cheerily 3 and in the kindliest spirit ahout living notabilities." And Albert Smith, who wrote a poem about the members of the Tielfling Cluh, surcm -arized Thackeray thus, "And then there came a mighty man, who 'tis but fair to state, Among the small is affable, the.Great among the great -The good Pendennis. "•*-Allof v/hich testifies to the general kindness and affability of Thackeray's character." Besides frequenting these clubs, Thackeray was 1 S j ^ & ^ o u f . I/V.T- cA.TK- /»••**' /k>-,M9-30. often to be found at the "Cyder Cellars," later to be described as the "Back Kitchen" of "PendenniB," and at Evan's Supper Rooms. The Care of Harmony became the "Coalhole" of the "Ifewcomes", where the good Colonel brought his son Olive, and taught the tipsy Company there present the lesson that Thackeray always preached, "Lien, res-pect the boys," Apart from his clubs, Thackeray found another and a better substitute for the home life he craved. He was welcomed into the home of an old college comrade, the Eeverand Broolcfleld, and he said his young rife, did rruch to comfort Thackeray in his loss. Thack-eray "Caught at once, It would seem, at rhe brotherly access afford-ded him Into this ner home, and would eome and pour out his burdened heart to the charming and gentlo women in her pretty room, with a relief and consolation such as women only have the power of giving to such men. By degrees, Thackeray invested with a reverential worship this kind and sweet companion of so many domestic meetings. He found in her not only a sister but c gentle goddess, the 'dear lady' for i-hom no familiarity diminished his tender respect."1 Its seems a sad thing that the wan "ho found it so hard to live "without the tenderness of some woman" should be so thwarted in his affections, his wife taken from him in his youth, and his second love the wife of a friend. This beautiful friendship, for such it must be called, lasted throughout his life, and his letters to her « that have since been collected under the title of "A Collection of Letters of W. M. Thackeray" ere invaluable for the light they throw on his character, proving him to be the man we know from his writings iW- f«»S. p- 7CO-r- » i , . n ' 5 f • " •: ' * * n • > • • • • • ' - i * - " » * • • * , ' . ; » , » 1 - - - - • • - , , , . • . - * •• - '• . . . . . . * 4 - H A " • , , • r ^ r " " * " ' ' * .- •'• . * • • . * • * * • : : - ' - * ' " \ * - * V ec'airu. * u. .^- ' ' . . - I . . '.r.t'.f *' ' ' . — ' . • - - - . " v - — •Hut I «NMiM '* ^ r V : i e , ><• V .•.-*. 5 to ^ i r l " " - -<•«»••** •c r«$B**4 '*** ••j^R-'ln© ^ -*'4? ,!-r ..• -*»tri ; e * - % « , V r n , *hr •*» ^ r " vo • r v t a , r <or *f;llcr*c ' f ?>» »• -nfi • -*" ' 1 J •*• •-•-* "*^". "*#. t!** if 111: of l l ^ M l ! ' . « r *.vr" —.I -•? '•-• —••* • • . *>-•» I — I * - * * ' v ; RAgBnlne •.:*•.•»? - r * ' " V I - - , *•# **-;r %•—-r#j •**» r ' l ' o * " « « *~r j ; , r r h , "19^ t*^* I v - V •- 1«,~,.~. - ,*. - r » „• ,».„<-•»..« v~. .».,, i :*« * a t ^ o a t - r 7 - -c - -•-! - *> -*•*• "»•-#»- --* '*•*!• * •—» r.- *•• •.• f r i l e c * !.-•-. r v . * - , -jr.* .-.— '* - - - - - •- • - ,. • ft , ' ' <--.r. I* i« *>t jrtr^Ar- * ' f t ?*•?••«• -r .: c* *«?, "•••?•.!!• - - - ^••-- . - .,»>-^  **t Sn »• ! t o cf -T! -^  a v*,**-r *•**• "te^-^r."* of rv.-^^ . r l i f e , •*» S l i ^ - ' t ' f e B •>•* —-- - • •—.»• - - c: — • • - • «•••»;*• .*» never sowed. Shis f?et lo the nore rosarfcahla ?*wm i t lo remeK-hered tha t Thaelioray was a man of the t-orld, and encaged in a l i f e of husiasss e e t i r l t y . H« had not n i l ^ e tyioo of ro.-~.or that i roy on society, ho had in fac t , loot & considerable wsotat of h i s r » t -riraony throtsgh the Iwavory of Just swfli r*en sad he -*«< in * posi t ion t o see *nd learn a l l the rneennnesees of toman n e twe j hvt in * r i t e af t h i s *norlcdne that wmlft^wisanthrope cf P l e s se r *an, p«d in sp i t e ef h i s ora t r e b l e , h i s f«l th «nd t ru s t in God f w w fal tered, an* h i s overflowing tower *nd h«!*»n ^indr^es -< r^o never onhitto2'ee. A s t r i d i n g instanee of th in sroetnocs of tenper in found in h i s "Botes on a Journey froci Cornhill to Grcnd Criro, " rftore tho roverairti nature of fheeher«y, the tosmor, and ^or^ly Mndncss of h i s d isposi t ion «re e l l cenbined in h i s charac te r i s t i c ~annor. In lf5i€ Thaefeeray travoled to J«rueelen r i t h a party of fr iends. Tho liorat of Olives icqpres^ed hin sr*?rvtly.. " I t rtea th«s*» Ha *i«#d to walk f»nd toaeh. ^ i t h shamed h r a i l i t y one lo^hs torrrCe +-ho spot rrhero tha t inexpressible love and Benevolence live?, «nd breathed; f.^ore *ho -Tea* yearning her r t ef the Sfviorar interceded for n i l otx T O O ; and t&eaoo tho h i ro t s and t r a i t o r s of His dry led Hin vnr to h i l l Eia ." * Shea he vier/ed the pyramids, in Ms t rave la . "t'o car; -the Pyramids. Fancy r& sansd ions dear i: - : Tv*> Lie ones end a l i t t l e oa«t!!l There they lay , rosy end solera in Iho lUstanee - ;*,ooo old na jaa t l e , rayatioal familiar edif ices . Several of us t r i ed to he impyessedj hut broaTcfaat Intervened, a rush t?aa made pt tho coffee and cold p ies , and the sontinont of at?e vm.a loot in the scramble for 33. victuals."1 Again he wrote, "That trwo-pair front of a Consulate (at Alexandria) ras more -welcome and cheering than a palace to most of us. For there lay certain letters, pith post marks of •Home1 upon them, and kindly tidings, the ^irst heard for two months. and your humble servant got 3ust one little modest letter containing another, written in pencil characters varying in size between one and two inches: - yes, my dear Madam, you ?rill understand me when I say that it ^ as from little Polly at home, with some confidential newB ahout a cat, and the last report of her new doll." It is Just such personal touohes that reveal Thackeray's inner nature. During this time, Thackeray was anxiously trying to make and save as much money as possible, in order to make adequate provision for his two daughters. TTriting, he always regarded as a precarious means of gaining a liv^ ihood, an anxiously sought for some employment that would bring him an assured income. In 1848 he attempted to secure an assistant-secretaryship at the Generel^Post office, but failed. In 1848, however, his fortunes ohanged with the appearance of "Vanity Pair? After the great success of this novel, Thackeray was lionized by society. Some of his former friends and acquaintances accused him of becoming a snob, and of tuft-hunting. His own remarks on the subject are enlightning. "If I don't go out and mingle in so-cfty, I can't write,"" he once remarked. In "Sketches dirfTravels in London", Thackeray, in the person of Brown, says, "My dear Bob, I own that to walk with a lord and to be seen with hixn is a pleasant ?4. thing. Every "»» o* t h 0 middle olane l ikes to know perrons of rank. I f fee says he doesn't - aon't Relieve him. And I would cer-tainly wish that you should associate rith your superiors rather than your Inferiors. There Is no more dangerous or stupefying position for a man in l i f e than to be a cook of the email cociety. I t prevents his ideas from growing: It renders him tolorrhly con-ceited. A tw©-ptony halfpenny Caesar, a Brummagem dandy, a cotorie philosopher or wit . Is pretty sure to be an ass* and, in f ine , [ l set i t down as a rasatto that i t i s good for a man to l ive where he oaa mset h i s betters, intel lectual and social , j To know young noblo-raen, aa* bri l l iant and notorious town hacks and leaders of fashion, hat t h i s great disadvantage - that i f you talk about them er are see* with the* mush, you offend your friends of middle l i f e . I t makes men angry t s see their acquaintances better off than they themselves are* I f yen l i v s mush with great psople, others wi l l be sure to say that you are a sneak « . . . old acquaintances do not forgive him h i s super-ior i ty , and set the Ttifthunted down as the tnfthunter.n l But In spite of his altered circumstances emd popularity, be lost nothing of h i s simplicity, nor Pllowed social position to niter bis i l a in common-sense." I l ike «h&t are called BohamlAns an* follows of thet sort they ere more natural and unconventional, and -hen I ene these matanifieent dandies yawning out of White's or Caraeolllng in the Park, I l l * . tc think th«t Brwiwel was the greatest of them a l l , end that Brummel's father w s a footman. »* Bat as every rlrfht-mlnded man must, Thackeray admired the "Je ne sals quel" that nnfle a gentle-man. "Ho doubt. - he once said to Hr. Jeaffreson, "a man may be the descendant of eleven earls, and yet he a pitifully mean creature, all the same I am of the opinion that it takes three generrtions 1 to make a gentleman." In the "Second Funeral of Hapoleon" he took up the subject more "bluntly, and went to the heart of the matter with absolute directness and without any trace of sentimentality. "We know that though the greatest pleasure of all is to act like a genlteman, it is a pleasure, nay a merit, to he one - to come of an old stock, to have an honorable pedigree, to be able to say that centuries hack our fathers had gentle blood, and to us transmitted the same. Here is good in gentility: the man rfho questions it is envious, or a coarse dullard not able to perceive the difference bet-een high breeding and low. In the matter of gentlemen, denocrates cry, 'Pshai give us one of nature's gentlemen, and hang your aristocrats!' And so indeed Uature does make some gentlemen - a few here and there. But Art makes most. Good birth, that is, good handsome well-formed fathers and mothers, nice cleanly nursery-maids, good meals, good physicians, good education, few cares, pleasant easy habits of life, and luxuries not too great or enervating, but only refining - a course of these going on for a few generations are the best gentleman-makers in the rorld and beat nature hollow.... Potato myself, I oan*t help Boeing that the tulip yonder has the best place in the grrden, and the most sunshine, and the most water, and the best tending - and not liking him over well. But I can't help acknowleding that nature has given hia ft raueh finer dress than ever I can hope to hare, and of this, at |5-J«ll, 26. leaaed, rnit £iwe M B the benefit." Sneh ere eone of Thackeray1 a ldo&e of m {jo alt amen* There l i none of Swiff* e oringing deference to the groat, orhle eonten^pt and eoorn for the aaa of humble rank, but lnetead, the "manly, honeet, God-relying efcnplioity, ' of a eeme woIUUbalaaoed man. Another of Ihaokerey'e attompte to inoreaee hie income reenlt-e4 la hie lecture eearee on t ie "Xeglleh Humoriete of the 18th Oentutj/t" Although Thackeray waa * dlfflfleatgpftn, nd entirely ^^^^^aimj^^ap *™ ^ *^w . ^ esgr ^ m^^^ i^^ ^e'^ pjeap ^^^r , '^e*^j ^^ ^* • • *™^^B"™*^^^ ^#^#** v^> ^^^w ^F W ^ F ejMa^ptMMMemem la this reepaot* he nevertheleee made * eseooea ot hie leeturee. otioaiiy r i i the feaee* literary people ef the day, among then Haelitt and Charlotte Bronto, attended the whole eearee, nore *rom pereonal rogr-rft for Thackeray, end the natter, than fear the Banner of Me lecturer;, -Jtronc tootiraoaiol to the groat charm of the man* lectarc3 he aoiivejwd with greet aveeeev in America, 1* IWm -here he *ee> eetheeleetioaiiy roo^irod by the people* tatted Stetea. Xaater Wallaek, the actor, la epeeklng of certain l i t t l e evening gtftherlnge, eald of Thackeray, "Be wee like e hey. Be did not attempt -to bo the genlue of the party— flueh an unoo^  hletloetof gentle creature ae he nee." Ehen Thackeray heard the kind thlnge that ware eald about htm, and of the ouuoeae of hie verioua loot-eree he eee delighted* On one ooo&aion, after hearing a l l the eeate ware cold far a leotwre he nee te giTc, he danced and eang like e hey. the off eat ef hie Amerleea trip and the lmpreeeicn he mate en the people there wna atoned tip by Pwtnane Itenthly ne#*BiM » 07. S9* 9v&9 1OTS "The popular Thackeray theory hofbre M e arrival was of ft eevere eatiriat who concealed aealpolo in M B Bleereo ant earried prebee in hie waiet-'eont pocket; a rearer of oasis; a aoeffer and eneerew and general infidel of all high aim and noble character . Certainly we are Justified in saying that hie proaense among ua quite oorreoted this idea* Wo welcomed a frload-ly genial meat net at ell eonrineed that speech ia henverfs first law* bat willing ta be client **en there was nothing to say - who deoidly refused to ha lionised, not ha sulking hut by stepping off the pedestal and ehallensing tha eoewon synpetMeB of all he net. We eeaeelve the chief merit of Thackeray*e rlelt to he that he eon-rlaoed ttt) of M B intellectual Integrity, he ahowed ua how irapoaeible it ia fas* M M te eee the world and describe it other than he floea. He dees not profess eynieism, norsatiriae society r.ith malice. These la no rams more humble, none more simple and hie Interests are hxasja and eonerete, net abstract." Bat ieaMfttl as ever of hia own sure power of pleasing the puVlio eat anxious for some eeoure inoome not dependent upon hie aw* originality, he Bought a aeoretaryahip of legation at Warhlne-toa ia 1884, At this time, in fast as early ns 1049, he had to suffer la health. Ia 1854 he wrote to hia American friend, 2r. I?*e4 "I an today Juat out of bed after another - about the dosenth -severe fit Sf spasms wMoh I have had thiB year. % book would ae*» seen written but for them."8 The publie did not know how the •*Me*eB»at of hia boeka was interspersed with bitter Buffering. l a sp i t e of i l l heal th , t h i s was the most iroduotivo l i t e r a r y period of hie l i fe* Between 164S vxA 18h& ho contributed to iunoh "Vanity ?a i r " rcs concluded in 10£Q$ "iflndonnis" in 1880; "Henry Eenond" in 185S;"T2ncllBli Unmorloto" in 1CE1; "She 3er-eonoc" la 1055; "She Virginians" in 10C9; "lovol the Widow**" in 18G0; "The ffore Goorges" in 18G1; "Che Adventures of Phi l ip" in 18G2; "Roundabout Papers" in 1CC3; and "Dennis Duval" in 10C7. Troll ope, in h i s e s t -imate of Thackeray, eon&ured him several ly for h i s idleness, "He doubted the appreciation of the world; he doubted his f i tness for turning h is i n t e l l e c t t o valuable sooount; lie doubted h i s physical capacity, dreading h i s own lack of industry . . . . So find on Monday morning an excuse why he should net on Hosday do Monday^ work was at the t ips an inexpressible r e l i e f to him." This reproach of idleness was one of the popular cr i t ic isms made against Thackeray by h is contemporaries, A glance over the works he produood'at t h i s t ins gives one an impression of anything but idleness. (The charge seems a very unfair one a lso, vhen the i l l -hoa l th of Thackeray i s taken into account- But as Uerivole points out, "Trollope wrote regular ly so many words an hour, and therefore Thaokeray should have done tho same, and not so doing, vented forethought•" "If Thackeray? said a wri ter in the "Pall Kail Gazette? "was tfile while writ ing fVr-nity Fair* end 'The Hewomes•, I f he m s so l i t t l e of a r ea l bus inesc l ike author that he renin .*!«vor go «t h is work so n&w hours a day, but wrote when the humor took bin or then he was obliged, we assure UrJ Tjollope that ~e do not nroh oare, - k~ny of 39, TtB his countrymen. Indeed, if he could come back to -rite in his old idle ray, on condition that any half-dozen well -regulated living authors we could name ^ere sent to fill his place in Hefrdes, we should be sorry to answer for the existence of the well-regulated six for a week.lT *^ A'sentiment which many of ue must share. In 1857 Thackeray stood for Parliament for the city of Oxford, he tras defeated by only fifty-three votes by Mr. (afterwards Viscounf) Gardwell. His campaign was conducted with the utmost fairness, and his attitude to his adversary was courtly in the extreme. His views were enlightened, he wished to amend and enlarge the suffrage and have voting by ballet, "I would usd my best indeavors not merely to popularize the government Of this country, " he said, "with no feel-ing but that of gOOd-wlll towards these leading aristocratic families who are administering the chief offices of the State. I believe it could be benefited by the skill and talents of persons less eristocra-tlo, and that the county thinks so likewise." In 1859 he undertook the editorship of the "Cornhill Magazine" where the multiplicity of his labors made him feel "like a toad under a harrow." He brought together a brilliant staff of contributors and raised the magazine at onee to the front rank of periodicals. Trollope's "Framley Parsonage" was the principal novel that the maga-sine led off with, while Thackeray's "Lovel the Widower", ana "Ailven-tures of Philip" appeared therein. The delightful "Roundabout Papers" began with this magazine also. Thackeray was overjoyed with the 40. success of the "Cornhill Magazine." As an editor he raa very care-f u l . He declined Mrs. Brownings poem, "Lord Walter's Wife" cs wel l as a s tory hy Trol lops, port ly "because he considered the subjects unsuited to family reading. He always looked fondly to h i s yotaog readers. Many yerrs before, he had written in "Punch," "We have a love for a l l l i t t l e hoys at school, for many thousands of them read and love 'Pundh'. May he ne-ver write a word that sha l l not he honest and f i t for them t o read!" This consideration '-as always before h i s mind. When h i s own l i t t l e g i r l ' s paper "Lit t le Scholars? rras publish-* ed, he said to a fr iend, "When I read i t I blubbered l i k e a chi ld; i t was »o good, so simple, so honest; and ray l i t t l e g i r l wrote i t , every word of i t . " tfor a nttoher of reasons, Thackeray gave up the editorship of the magazine in 1862, although he continued to contribute to i t unt i l the time of h i s death. One of the principal reasons for resigning the edi torship , "as that he wac constantly harasseft by begging end insu l t -ing l e t t e r s , while he held that pos i t ion . Often and often he gave monetary ars is i tance to the needy out of h i s own pocket, but he could not continue that sort of thing. His t***t of "forainine softness ," His overflowing charity and excess ive generosity end desire t* give pleasure to others caused him to flfBl deeply the appeals or insults he received. His "Roundabout Paper" headed "Thorns in the Cushion," shows very c l ear ly with what he had to contend. In sp i te of the fact that contributions -ere to be send only to h i s o f f i c e , he received hundreds of l e t t e r s a t h i s home, sorae of them pathetic in the extreme. • ItudvMt 41. "Sow you see, " he says "What I mean hy form. Here is the case put; rlth true female logic 'I am poor; I am £Ood; I em 111; I v/orfc hard; I have a sick mother and hungry brothers and sisters dependent on me. Yop: can help us if you trill.1 Anft then I look at the paper rith a thousandth pert of a faint hop* that it may he suitable, and I find it ron't do. Ho day passes hut that ar-gument *ad miserieowftiaa' is used. Day and night that sad voice 1B crying out for helg..... Sometimes my letters contain not mere thorns, hut bludgeons .... I have never seid what my correspondence Bay I sey. There is the text under their noses, hut rhat if they choose to re?d it there own ray? ... Ah me I re round rhere re ne-ver intended to strilSr: re create anger where re never meant harm; and these thoughts are the thorns in our cushion. Out of mere malignity , I suppose, there is no man ^ ho would like to make en-emies. But here in this editorial business, you can't do other-' wise: anft a queer, sad, strange,-hitter thought it is, that must cross the mind of many a public man: 'Do rhat I rill, he innoeant, be spiteful, be generous or cruel, there rre A and B, and C, andD, rho rill hate me to >-he end of the adapter - ^ .en hate, and ^nrj rnd fort^e, and disappointment shall be over."1 In 1863 Thackeray, then in his fifty-third year, died suddenly in bed. The shoe* to the liter-ry -orld and to the public ras Immense. He seemed to have «fclt he ras going to die, rnft not long before, he showed a prayer to his friend, Mr. Synge, rhere he, ' ^rutrxMA vt\ TRJL CujdLxjer\ ) <*\ prayed that he night never write a word inconsistent with the love of God, or the lore of nan; that ho Bright neror i.ropagate his Own prejudices or poader to those of others: that he night always apeak the truth with his pea and that >e night never ha actuated ay greed. Carlyle, who never flattered snybedy, wrote, ,rH» had nany fine qualities; no gtaie or mliee against an:' mortal.w WMla SSilnao aaught the spirit of all ffcadfcara? over wrote, wlisn he eaid, " 0 gentler Censor of our age! §riiae master of our ampler tongnel flhose word of wit and generous pa#e t ?'ere aorer wrath, eseept with wrong, n *»rt 1—Ohaptar 111* Ihaeharay fciasslf considered that aa author's character H««:»irrored la his works* and that the tecsper of the writings was the teraper^ of the man. For example, in epeakinw ef the r i l e picture of •aakin* that "Dean ^wift drew in "Onlliver's travels, "he ?ays," •Ska*, had thla tmm done.. .that he ehowlft see a l l the world bleed* shot? TTa view the world with our own eyes, each of ur?; *m& vc r!«»**e fron within us the world we see. A weary hewrt pots ao "ladnese out Of sunehinej a ©elfish wan i» sk«»rtieal about friendship..• A frightful self-eonaeiouene3s i t wast hove been, which looked on mankind ao darkly through those keen eyes of Swift. ' * 8 f . ' , : . Thackeray*s <*eurse of lec tures on the BnllBh l i raoris ts I l l u s t r a t e s t h i s pr inciple o W f t M y , for in vrnvp ease, ho finds •he* the character of the hrraorist eoloro hio rerk , and that the s ty le i s the man. This he lag so ; "^ r&y crtrect to ^orn an eeertrat© octinato of Ehae&ersy'e efc&raeter fron the tenor of h i s r r i t lags, and conver-se ly an t a t teats o t r jy of h i s character " i l l threw l igh t on **tat he has "written. I f ThaclBaray »«*« e cynie, as son© believed, e f t^ r ' ree l ing cer ta in of h i s wri t ings, then *^ e may ©:*pset to Tina him & cynic in private 7 i fe , "believing h-men neture tfnuaaenfcnlly ev i l But f»n& l i f e without purpose or meaning. AjfriMthst thors never w e a wr i te r whose lo re for humanity was more ofcvious or wore s incere , as h i s warm rnd ge. eroua friendship, h is love for children, ana h i s deap and act ive sentiments of re l ig ion show. Msrivate considers Disappointment and liftli^loa «s the t-t> hey-secrots of Thackeray's l i f e , saying, "iielijjion trse the antidote i f disappointment was the bane. Bead hia ?nd nee. Through «11 h i s t r i a l s end trouhles there sever lived a simpler or mors roek-fcuilt .frith.*'1 fflillf there i s a great deal of t r o th in ;*:ic s t a t e -raent, i t n*rrcr^tho-4ea*», does not seen to i n s i d e * friert&linoso, the gen ia l i ty and humor of Thackeray*s nature . fhaefceray m e eminently a 3oeial being* Of a l l things ' eayi Herivale," h is delight was to he among a aimli oir&le of hie i a t ina t s friends and to "be allovreu , i f ue may uee the phrase, to play the fool. 'Doaipere in loco* F&S ~iV''® ^VOrito pursui t , and he fretted under a eon-, anion t#io could not undyrstanfl or join in i t . " 2 44. This socia l ins t inc t i s the key-secret of Thackeray's l i f e rather than Disappointment and.Religion, for,out of that love for, and in te res t in mankind, -e get the all-embracing charity of his nature, tha t showed i t s e l f in every action of h i s l i f e , and la almost a l l tha t he ever wrote. His character and 16eals would have been just as great and good hafl he never r e t with a single disappointment in l i f e , beoeusc the dominant charac te r i s t ics -of h i s youth and early man-hood, Irinflness," tenderness, modesty, manliness and pur i ty , were the same v i r tues that follow him to the greve, unchanged by disappointment. Disappointment, however, undoubtedly touched his heart and made him more gentle in h i s treatment of others , quicker to forgive and forget, and slower to cendpmn hut i t changed the fundamental elements of Tit**! his nature In no way. Without his love for his fellow men, disappoint-TTOtlld made Mr; as bitter BB Ehriffc, or religion ould have ma&< him an ascetio, "the world forgetting by the world forgot," instead of the genial, If at tteas melancholy man we know, who took the world as h© found it * and found it "ood. Anthony Trollope, who did not hesitate to disclose Thackeray's faults admitted-Wte goddneos of his disposition,saying, "To give some immediate pleasure was the great delight of his life. His i charity was overflowing, his generosity eTcesoiw?,." All his friends, such as Doctor John Brown, Bayard Taylor, John Cooke, Mrs. Fanny Komble, Charlotte Bronte, all speak of him with the warmest admiration, and testify concerning tho charm of his manner. 45. and the pleasure to be derived from his society, bsoause of his geniality and his resdinerrs to ple.?*e rr& he pleased. "His placid temper," said Mr. Vizetelly," end. pleasant eourtesy, charmed all who came in contact with him. Thackeray was reticent in expressing his opinion upon people whom he did not like, and very ~arely said Ill-natured things about anyone." After he became really famotis, many of his old friends accused hira of deserting then for and newer and more aristocratic acquaintances, but a letter to Mrs. "pyne, shows the real cause of his apparent neglect. MT"hen a man gets this charaoterfof being haughty to old aomiaintanoes^ ho never loses it. This opinion once put forth against a pen, all his friends believe it» accommodate the-selves to the new theory, e^ e coolness wher^ none is meant. They won't allor for the time an immensely enlarged acquaintance occupies, and frney I am dandling cftcr lor5s md fine people because I am not so much in their drawing roors ss in former days. Theyhdon't Itnow in «*tst a whirl a man plunges who is en-gaged in my bu.siness. Hohody knows the work until he is In it. Of course with all this, old friends bint you are changed, you ere for-2 saking them for great people and so forth." That Thackeray really felt this accusation keenly Is evident from his many references to Just this sort of thing, throughout M 3 essays, enfl that such accusations were unfounded, seems rerronable to suppose, ?inc^ «<ctions of this kind **ere foreign to his nature, rnd testimonies of unbiased friends point the contrary. "'Otv^g ~.v0 A±& not understand him," said Dean Hole, "have made some cruel mistakes, TThoever desires to p* .373-46. know what sort of man he was, his lore of goodness and contempt of evil, let him read, 'The UereornesV At his clubs he was equally popular, "It was very pleasant," wrote Mr. Jeaffreson, historian of "Our Club," to watch the white-haired veteran and also to hear him, though at best he sang infl ifferently, whilst he trotted forth his g favorite ballads touching'Little Billie and Father Martin Luther." And that Thackeray did delight in such amusements is evident to erery reader of "Pendennis1' und "The IJewcomesV, ( One of the most pleasing aspects of Thackeray's character and one that Is farthe^est removed from cynicism, was his love for child-ren. One of his chief delights was to visit St. PPUI'S and hear the charity children sing, whilst his affection for his own and friend's children was marvellous. LTiss Henrietta Cockran has related many touching and musing stories of Thackeray's kindness to her rhen she wae a small girl of seven. "How often he sat amongst us,'enquiring tenderly after my dolls! He remembered their names and had made out a genealogical tree so that every 'poup«fe* had a distinct history 3 of itB own." Thackeray himself used to say laughingly, that he never saw a schoolboy without wishing to tip him. His "Tunbridge Toys" paper of the Roundabout series is a tender renlnlscenee of M s own childhood, "Ah! my dear sir, if you have any little friends at school go and see them; he wrote, "and do the natural thing by them. You won't miss the sovereign. You don't know what a blessing it -111 be to them. Don't fancy they are too old - try 'em. And they rill remember you, and bless you in future days... It is all very well, 47. my dear sir, to say that hoys contract habits of expecting tips £rom their parent's friends, that they become avaricious, and so forth. Avaricious! fudje! Boys contract habits of tart and toffee eating whioh they do not carry into after life. On the contrary, I wish I did like fem. What raptures of pleasure one could have now for five shillingsI Ho. If you hrve any little friends ft school, out with your half-crowns, my friend, and impart to those little ones the t little fleeting joys of their ege." Eis paper on "Two Children in Bleak" is sadder, but it serves to show how he always noticed children end how the love of then was always in M a heart. "I saw at once that she wee the mother of those children, Bad jroiag to part from then. Perhapa I have tried parting with my own, and not found the business very pleasant. lerhaps I recollect driving down with my own mother to the end of the avenue, where we waited - only a few minutes, - until the rhirring wheels of the 'Defiance' ooach were heard rolling towrrda us aa certain as death. Twang goes the horn; up goes the trunk: down come the steps. Behl I see the autumn evening: I hear the -heels nor: I smart the cruel smart egain: end, boy or ran, have never been able to bear the sight of people parting from their children."3 His charity knew no bounds. To hear of misfortune was to try and alleviate it, but as a friend acid, ''Eis charity like his religion, he was chary of mentioning, except to deprecete the idea that he wrs particularly beneficent." Examples of his hind-heartefluess are without nmher, and he save when he cometines rrs in need himself. He wets a true Christian and went about doing -ood. P" 9 3. , 48. His religion, horever, rns bound*?* by no oreads, but -as a deep sentiment of devotion that colored his r*ole life. Aeeotleisn he despised, "Blasphemous asceticism,n he called it, "which is dis-posed to curse, hate, and rjidervalue the world altogether. Why should, we? What we see here of this world is hut an expression of God's will so to speak, a besutiful enrth and sky and sea, - beaut-iful affections, beautiful sorrows, T-onderful changes and develop-ments of creation, SUBS rising, stars 3hinlng, "louds and shadows changing and fading, people loving each othea, smiling and crying, the multiplied phenomenon of Hature, multilTLied in fact and fancy, in Art and Science, in every ray that a nan's intellect or imagina-tion flan be brought to bear. About my /uture state, "he said with reverence, "I don't know, I leave it in the disposal of the awful Father, - but for today I thank God that I can love you, and that you yonder and others besides are thinking of mo with tender regard." He knew hie doctrines were opposed to the spirit of pioua asceticism, but he expressed them as vigorously as Browning ever did. "Why you dear creature," he said, "what a history that is in the Thomas \ Kerapis book! The scheme of that book carried out would make the world the most wretched, uselesB, dreary, doting place of sojourn -there would be no manhood, no love, no tender ties of mother and child, no use in intellect, no trade or science, a set of selfish beings crawling about avoiding one another and howling a perpetual miserere!'' a Doctor John Brown relates how on one occasion they wore walk-let. W. rfyTHMfL-49. ing near Edinburgh and saw the wooden crane of a granary, placed in the figure of a cross, against a beautiful sunset sky. All '-ere roved and silent for aone rom^nts, then Thackeray, in a tremulous voice, said, "Calvary." He TTPS gentle end serious all that evening, speaking of things religious and expressing his simple faith in God and his Saviour. His humorous paragraph on the clergymen of "Our Street" speaks for itself. Hie sense of htnor could not fail to detect the erring that ™ent on between the sects, pnfl the petty jealousies that animated the clergymen of each, hut his respect for their goodness was not assumed. "Vte have a variety of clergymen in Our Street. Mr. Oriel is of the pointed Gothic school, ™hile old Slocum is of the good old tawny port-Tine school; s>nd it must he confessed that Mr. Gronow, at Ehenezer, has a hearty abhorrence of both.... and Ifr. Mof?c the de-mure chaplain of the little churoh of Avomary Lane, keeps his sly eyes down to the ground when he passes any one of his black-coated brethren. There is only one point on rhich my friends seem agreed. Slocum li fces port, but who ever heard that he neglected his poor? Gronow, if he t oomrainates hes neighbors congregation is the affectionate father of his own. Oriel, if he loves pointed Gothic and parched peas for breakfast, has a prodigious soup-kitchen for his poor; and as for little Father Mo£e, who never lifts his eyes from the ground, ask our doctor at what bedside he finds him, and how he soothes poverty, and braves misery and inflection." And as always, the last thought that Thackeray leaves ia our minds, is an admiration for their virtues, that in some measure 50. the good man who is large enough to see all tilings in this light* was hroad-niinded in his yiews of v.en. and things, and lived what he so earnestly preached to others:-"Come wealth or want, eone oood or ill, Let yovng and old accept their prrt. And how "before the Awful will, And bear it with an honest heart, "h.o misses, or who wins the prize? Go, lose or conquer, as you can: But if you fail, or if you rise, , Be each, pray God, a Gentleman." p. IH1P, \ / Va*y 4 ktutU+d . I if . I* 51. Part 2. Chapter 1. "Almost five thousand years agone, there rere Pilgrims walking to the Coelestial City, end BeelzehhD, and Apollyon and Legion, per-ceiving "by the path that the Pilgrims made, that their Way to the City lay through this Town of Vanity, they contrived here to set up a Fair; a Fair wherein should he sold all sort of Vanity, and that it should last all the year long; thereforesthis Fair are all such merchandizes sold as houses, lands, trades, places, honors, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, pleasures... And moreover, at this Fair there is at all times to be seen juggling, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every kind. How, as I said, the Way to the Coelestial City lies just through this town, where this lusty Fair is kept; and he that will go to the city and yet not go through this town, must needs go out of the world. And as usual, there were good and sober men who lived in this town."1 Two hundred years after these words were written, csme another great preacher who "believed "Han is a drama - of Wonder and Passion, and Mystery, and Meanness, and Beauty-and Truthfulness. Each Bosom is a Booth in Vanity Fair; " But instead of teaching his lesson by Allegory, as that other great writer did, he showed us the daily lives of men in our actual world; he showed us his Pilgrims belled by the thought of those "houses, lands, trades, places, honors," and their struggles on the way to that far- off Coelestial City. And that other Pilgrims might "better understand the evils of that Fair through which all must pass, he has earnestly shown us the "cheats, games, plays, 1. Pilgrims Progress, Part 1. *> &*•* of-Snohs. Pg. 98-99. John C. Uimmo Ltd. c)u.fc s^obs.wT 52. i and rpgnea of every kindTT that are to be seen at all times at this Fair. Ho one has ever thought of calling Bunyan a cynic, for dis-covering the evils of Vanity Pair, simply "because he did not call his "Vanity Fair," "London, " for example, or his "Mr. Bateau" the fMarquis of Steyne" Yet the lesson is the same. If we are to call Thackeray a cynic, then Banyan nrast he one too, for Thackeray, no less than Bun3ran ha© shown us the "good and sober men who lived in this town," as well as the rogues of every kind. Men do not relish hearing the truth shout themselves. They prefer to think that suffering is caused hy the evil of the world rather than that they are the cause of that evil. This accounts for the tremendous popularity of Dickens. He was no less of an iconoclast than Thackeray, hut he hewed down the great idols of the world that were seen of all men, and attacked evil institutions, whereas Thackeray struck at the evils in the heart of every nan as the source of evil in the world. For this reason, people called him cynic, and said he could see no good in mankind. It was so from the heginning and pro-hahly will he until the end. For the same reason that Thackeray was failed a cynic, Matthew Arnold has been called a sceptic. The world cannot brook the song of Eorpedocles. It prefers to believe that evil in the world is not the sole outgrowth of the evil in the natures of men. Before looking at Thackeray's attitude to life and human nature as contained in his writings, before watching the advanee of his Christians, whom we know as Arthur Pendennises or Clive ITewcomes; be-fore regarding the rogues of his Vanity Fair, and finally listening to his own words regarding life and the world, let us first decide 5S. what a cynic is. "A philosopher of the snarling or currish sort," said Johnson, "A person disposed to rail or find fault; now nsually one rho shows a disposition to disbelieve in the sinoerity or good-ness of human motives and actions, and is wont to express this "by sneers and sarcasms; a sneering fault-finder," says Sir James Hurray, in the Eew England Dictionary. George Lleredith haB aptly described another side of cynicism that manifests itself particularly in lit-erature. "Cynics are only happy," he says, "In making the rorld as barren to others as they hare made it for themselves." H. W. Beeoher says, "The cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a man and never fails to see a bad one." Whether Thackeray is such a one must be decided from the study of this works. What Thackeray has done, has been rather well stated by Brownell "Thackeray does not stimulate thought so much as reflection. His ideas are moral rather than metaphysioal. They are the ideas too, that in-spire human motives and govern human action in familiar life and In the individual, that contribute to the marring or unmaking of character* his chief preoccupation - rather than the development of his intelligen oe. When Thackeray is called e'realist''something more is meant than that his novels are pictures of life rather than classic or romantic compositions. It is meant that his philosophy is realistic - that is to say, based on the data of the perspective facilities, ffacliitica that in his case -ere of amazing sharpness. There is no missing the tenor of his gospel, which is that character is the one thing of im-portance in life; that it is tremendously complex and the easiest thing in the world to misconceive both in ourselves end in others: 54. that truth is the one subject worthy of pursuit; and that the study of troth discloses littlenesses and futilities in it at its best for which the only cloak is charity, and the only consolation atonement and the cultivation of the affections."" As Thackeray himself says, "There is life and death going on in everything, truth and lies always at battle. Pleasure is always waging against self-restraint, doubt is always crying, 'Pshaw,' and sneering. A man in life, a humorist in writing about life, swings over to one principle or the other, and laughs with the reverence for right and the love of truth in his heart, or laughs at these, from the other side....I cannot help telling the truth as I view it, and describ«»>)what I see. To describe it Otherwise than it seems to me would be falsehood to that calling in which it has pleased heaven to place me, treason to that conscience whioh says that men are weak, that truth must be told, that fault must be owned, that pardon must be prayed for, and that love reigns supreme over all." Thackeray, however, was a man of the world and did not decry worldly prudence and forethought. It is for this reason perhaps that his view of life is so palatable, and makes so profound an impression. While others preached great principles, Thackeray look-ed at the intimate facts of every day life and taught us how to apply these truths that we had learned elsewhere. His is the wisdom of a prudent and high-souled parent, who wishes to see his children wise and happy and good. In a word, his are the ideals that "inspire human motives and govern human aotions in familiar life and in the 1. Brownell, Victorian Prose Masters. 2. Melville, life of Thackeray. Vol. 1. CII. 12. pp.211. Charity and Htanor lecture. 55. individual." This tinge of worldly wisdom also added to his re-putation for cynicism. "Hy dear young friend," he wrote, in "Philip," "the profitable way in life is the middle way. Don't quite believe in anyhody, for he may mislead you, neither disbelieve him, for that is uncomplimentary to your friend, "olack is not so very "black; and as for white, 'bon dieu1, in our climate what paint will remain white long?" But we surely cannot call a man a cynic "because he happens to be wise for this world rather than for the next alone, especially whe^:"his advice is sound and in no way harmful. For example, in "Sketches and Travels in London," lie wrote,* uAnd, as you are what is i called a gentleman yourself, I hop©- that Mrs. Bob Brown, whoever it t may be, is not only by nature, but by education, a gentlewoman. HO man ought ever to be called upon to blush for his rife. I see good men rush into marriage with ladies with whom they are afterwards ashamed; and in the same manner charming women linkAto partners whose vulgarity they try to screen. If you marry, dear Bob, I hope Mrs. Robert B. will be a lady not very much above or below your own station. Ee then continues, "Love is a mighty fine thing, dear Bob, but is not the life of a man. rtBusiness, there is friendship, there is society there are taxes, there is ambition, and the manly desire to exercise the talents which are given us by heaven, and reap the prise of our desert. There are othersbooks in a man's library besides Ovid; and after dawdling ever so long at a womanfe's knee, one day he gets up and is free. "re have all been there; we have all had the fever; the strongest and the smallest, from Sanson, Hercules, Hinaldo, downwards; but it burns out, and you get well. Ladies who read this, and who 1. Philip Ch.10 P.12 2. Travels and Sketches in London. On Love end Marriage.2. P.275. / i\ 56. know what a lore I have for the rhole ser, rill not, I hoj e, cry out at the above observations, or he angry hecause I state that the ardour of love declines after a certain period. Uy dear Mrs. Hopkins, you would not have Hopkins carry on the sane absurd behavior rhich he exhibited rhen he was courting you? tr in place of going to bed and to sleep comfortably, sitting up half the night to writ* to ycu bad verses? You would not have him racked rith Jealousy if you danced or spoke with anyone else at a ball; or neglect all his friends, his business, his interest in life, in order to dangle at your feet? Ko, you are a sensible woman, you hnow that he oust go to his counting-house, that he must receive and visit his friends, and that he must attend to his and your interest, in life. You are no longer his goddess his fairy, hjs peerless paragon, v;hose name he shouted as Don Quixote did that of Dulcinea. You are Jane Hopkins, you are thirty years old, you have got a parcel of children, and Hop loves you and them with all his heart. He would be a helpless driveller and ninny were he to be honeymooning still, whereas he is a good honest fellow, respected on Change, liked by his friends, and famous for his port-wine."1 And how like a father he says, "Yes, Boh, the fever goes, but the rife doesn't. She ought then to be able to make her house pleasant to your friends. She ought to attract them to it by her grace, her good-breeding, her good hu»or. let it be said of her, 'what an un-commonly nice woman Mrs. Brown isf' let her be, if not a clever woman, an appreoiater of cleverness in others, which, perhaps, clever folks like better. Above all, let her have a sense of humor, my dear Bob, for s woman without a laugh in her is the greatest boyein SK 'existence. lif. without laughing is a dreary blank. Before all things 1. travels and Sketches in London. On Ln*-* -A M •m nonaon. on iove and Marriage.1.279-280. I U 57. try and have a cheerful wife."1 In"Pendennis" as in Thackeray*3 other novels, what re rw.st call "worldliness" for want of a better term, re-ceives its proper share of attention. "It seems to me that your honest Begum is not a lady; Pen," said Warrington." She is as moral as Lady Portsea, who has allthe -orld at her balls, and as refined as Mrs. Bull, who breaks the king's English, and has half a dozen dukes at her table, " Pen answered, rather sulkily. "Why should you and I be more squeamish than the rest of the world? Why are we to visit the sins of the fathers on this harmless kind creature? She ne-ver did anything but kindness to you or any mortal soul. As far as she knows, she does her best. She gives you the best dinners she can buy and the best company she can get. Ker opinion about library matters, to be sure, is not worth much; and I dare say she never read a line of Wordsworth, or heard Tennyson in her life." "Ho more has Lirs. Flanagan the laundress, " growled out Pen's Mentor: "JTo more has Betty, the housemaid; and I have no word of blame against them. But a high-sorlec man doesn't make friends of these. A gentleman doesn't choose these for his companions, or bittap.y rues it afterwards if he do. Are you, who are setting up to be a man of the world and a philosopher, to tell me that the aim of life is to guttle three courses and to dine off silver? Bo you dare to own to yourself that your ambition is life is good claret, and that you will dine with any, provided you get stalled ox to feed on? You call me a cynic - why, what a monstrous cynicism it is, which you and the rest of you men of the world admit. I'd rather live upon raw turnips and sleep in a hollow tree or turn backwoodsman or savage, than degrade myself to this civilization, and own that a french cook was the thing in life best worth living for."2 And there _ _ j . Pji^jU^td*' 1. Travels and Sketches |& London. eA (,f hj> Si^-"^6" 58. spoke Thackeray, and there is his answer to the charge of cynicism on this score. In this matter of preaching the doctrine of prudence, especially to the young, Thackeray followed a Oood authority. It is in fact, Fielding to whom Thackeray orred most "both in style and treatment of his subject, though he ranks above the great master in purity of style and delicacy of treatment. Fielding also never hesitated to depict the scoundrel, and hearty, thoroughgoing ones at that, but his purpose in so doing was the seme as Thackeray's. "it is rith a view to their service (religion^ and virtue) that I have taken upon me to record the lives and actions of two of their false and pretended champions. A treacherous friend is the most dangerous enemy, and I rill say boldly that both religion and virtue have re-ceived more real discredit from hypocrites than the v/ittiest profli-gates or infidels could ever cast upon them."1 In relation to the study of every-day life Fielding further wrote, "Prudence and Circum-spection are necessary even to the best of men. They are indeed as it i ere a guard to Virtue, without Thich she can never be safe. It is not enough that your designs, nay, that your actions are intrinsi-cally good; you must take pare that they shall appear so. If your inside be never so beautiful, you must preserve a fair outside also. This must be constantly looked to, or malice and will take care to blacken it so that the sagccity and goodness of an Allrotthy "ill not be able to see through it and discern the beauties within. Let this, my young readers, be your maxim. That no man can be good enough to 1. Fielding. Tom Jones. Vol.1. 2k.5. pp. 145-146 Ch.4. 59. jmegleict "tie: rules of prudence nor will Virtue herself look beautiful unless she he "bedecked rith the outward ornaments of decency and decorun>" "If you are not guilty, " said Thackeray "have a care of appearances which are as ruinous as guilt." Wiser words were nev/er spoken. Io, truly, Thackeray was not a sentimentalist. For fuller corroboration of this one has hut to read "Travels and Sketches in London" in its entirety, where Thackeray's own views of prudent conduct in everyday life are contained and where he gives the fruits of his experiences to young "Boh Bvowtf." Thackeray had the gift of depicting rogues. All his works abound in them, graceless villains that have yet a touch of good-ness in their characters, so as not to be wholly despicable. In other words, his rogues are just such as we might meet any day in real life; for example, The Jnimitable Becky, a heartless, mercenary little wretch, but good-natured, witjry, _ and clever to a degree, and withall blessed with a considerable fund of humor, lor can we blame her too greatly. She was ambitious. Who among us does not desire to better our position in the world and be admired? Becky was clever, but she lacked money, hence her downfall. "' It isn't difficult to be a countjry gentleman's wife, ' Rebecca thought. 'I think I could "be a good woman if I had five thousand a year... I could ask old' women about their rheumatisms, and order half-a-crown's worth of soup for the poor. I shouldn't miss if much, out of fixe thousand a year.... I could pay everybody if I had but the money.' And who knows but Rebecca was right in her speculations - and thatit is only a question of money and fortune which made the difference between her and aa 1.Fielding. Tom Jones. Ch.7. Ek.S. pp. 165-166. 60. honest woman? If you take temptations into account \~%o is to eay that he is better than his neighbor? A comfortable career cf rros-perity, if it does not make jeorle , cnest, at least kee: s "or, EO. An alderman coming fror a turtle fecst rill not stcj out of M s carriage to steal a leg of mutton; but put him to starve, end roe if he rill not purloin a loaf."""" But in esse re should sentimentally forgive Becky too much, Thackeray roints out clearly, "It r.ay -erkara, have struck her that to have been honest and humble, to have done her duty, and to have marched straightforward on her ray, rould have brought her so near happiness as that path by rhieh she ras striding to attain It; - But if Becky ever had those thoughts, she ras eccustomed to rrlk around them and not look in." And it must elrays be rem«mber*d that it was by BeokyTs agenoy that Amelia and Dobbin at l^st fotmd haniness, Then again, there is the case of Kardon Crcrley, a man of unrefin* sensibilities, a oheat and a swindler. Yet inark his devotion to Becky. Before Waterloo, "Captain Crawley, who had seldom thought about anything but himself, until the last few months of Lis life, when love aad ob-tained the mastery over the dragoon, rent through the various items of his little oatalogue of effects, striving to see how they might be turned Into money for his wife's benefit, in case accident should befall vhim... Faithful to his of economy, the Car tain uressed himself in his oldest and shabbiest uniform and epaulets, leaving the newest " Whind, under his rife's guardianship. And this far.ous dandy of Hyde Park rent off on his oampeifc&, with a kit as modest as that of a sergeant, and rith something like a prayer on his lips for the 1. Vanity Pair. Ch.61. 2. Ibid. PJ.S42-345. Ch.€1-1.343. 61. woman he was leaving."1 The last sight of him is better still. "You - you don't knor hou I'™ changed since I've knom you, end -little Hardy," he said to the good Lady Jane, "I - I'd like to change somehow. You see I -ant - I -ant - to he - .' he did not finish the sentence, hut she could interpret it. And that night after he left her, end cs she sat ''oj her own little hoy's hed, she prayed humbly for that poor rayrorn sinner. Tre look in vain here for the "sneering faultfinder." A study of these characters whose natures re have so much occasion to "blame, is then very instructive. Without a doubt, many of the rogues have so few redeeming features that re need not con-sider them as anything hut rholly despiceole, lord Steync,for example. But such people are in the world, they tre studios from life -Thackeray net many of them in his o n time - snd. if he is zo point a moral and disclose the pitfalls yawning at our feet, he must shor us such people. "I ^ind that the absurd, the ludicrous, and even the evil leave core impression behind them than the grand, the beaut-iful or even the good." he once wrote, and so it is. "My kind reader rill please to remember that these histories ... have 'Vanity Pair' for a title and that Vanity Fair is a very '"idled, vain, foolish place, full of all sorts of humbugs and falsenesses rnd pretentions. And while the moralist, -ho is holding forth on the cover professes to rear neither gown nor bends, hut only the very same long o?red-iivery in rhich his congregation is arrayed; yet, loch you, one is bona* to speak the truth ec far as one kners it, - hether one mounts l.Vanity Fair. Ch.bS. i. ibid. c...«,o. 62. a cap end bells or a shovel hat; and a great deal of disagreeable matter must coae cut in the course cf such an undertaking And, as re bring our characters forward, I,rill ask leave, *»s a ran and a brother, not only to introduce them, but occasionally to step down from the platform, and tall: shout them: if they are good and kindly, to love them, and shake them by the hand: if they are silly, to laugh at them confidentially in the reader's sleeve: If they are ricked and heartless, to abuse them in the strongest terms which politeness admits of. Otherwise, you might fancy it was I who was sneering at the practice of devotion, rhich Lliss. Sharp finds so ridiculous, that it is I ho laughed gooft-hvjaorefily at the reeling old Silenus of a baronet - whereas the laughter comes from one who has no reverence except for prosperity and no eye for anything beyond success.Such people there are living and flourishing in the world -Faithless, Hopeless, Charityless; let us have at them, dear friends, with might and main. Some there are, and very successful too, mere quacks and fools; and it was to combat and expose such as those, no doubt, that laughter was made. M l < Up to this point we have seen that [Thackeray had respect for the successful; admired the good qualities of a rogue and even winked occasionally at his faults provided he were amusing; the enjoyed wordly pleasures z.&& advised the young against following every fool-ish impulse of the heart without due consideration; he showed us un-worthy people of all conditions rising to fortune, and the good being betrayed, a wealthy Dr. Pirmin and an$L ill-treated 6aroline;2 Such being the case, what then was Thackeray's characteristic attitude to l.Pendennis. Oh.61 2.A Shabby Genteel Story. pp.658-639. •* life as a whole? Let him snswer himself. "7/911, "ell - a carriage and three thousand e-year is not the summit of the reward nor the end of God's .judgment of men. If qvacks prosper as often as they go to the well - if Zanies succeed and knaves arrive at fortune, and '"ice ~ersa' sharing ill-luck and prosperity for all the world like the ablest and most honest among us, - I say, brother, the gifts and pleasures of Vanity Pair cannot be held of any great account, and that it is probable.... but we are rendering out of the domain of our story."^ Again, Warrington says to Pen, "You are siac-and-twenty years old, and as 'blase' at the rake of sixty. You neither hope much, nor care much, nor believe much. You doubt about other men as much as about yourself. T7ere it made of such ' pro errant i' as you, the world would be intolerable; and I had rather live in a wilderness of monkeys, end listen to their chatter, than in a company of men who denied everything."••'"'Were the rorld composed of St. Bernards or St. Dominies, ' said Pen, 'It would be equally odious, and at the end of a few score years would cease to exist altogether. Would you ahve every man with his head shaved, and every woman in a cloister, - carrycot to the fall the ascetic principle? Woiild you have conventical hymns twanging from every lane and every city in the world? Would you have all the birds of the forest sing one note and fly with one feather? You call me a sceptic because I acknowledge what IS;and in acknowledging that, be it linnet or lark, or priest or parson; be it, I mean, any single one of the infinite verities of the creatures of Hod (whose very name I would be understood to pronounce ' with reverence, and never to approach but with distant awe), I say that the study and acknowledgment of that variety amongst men especially increases our respect for the Creator...Even to the wretched outcry of 1, vanity Fair. Ch/38. pp-311-212 C5. blooming in foul places, as in the ~ost lofty and splendid i'ortvaes, flaws of vice and meanness, e.nd stains of evil; end, knowing how mean the best of us is, let us give a hand of charity to Arthur Pendennis, rith all his faults end shortcomings, v-ho does not claim to be a hero but only a nan end a brother.' His ballads contain £he same thought. He sees the "Vanitas Vanitatun'', of the world, but yet can say, "Oh reary is life's -oath to all! Hard is the strife and light the fall, But wondrous the r3ward."-So, "Each shall mourn in life's advance, Dear hopes, dear friends, untimely killed; Shall grieve for many a forfeit chance, And longing passion unfulfilled. Amen! whatever fate be sent, Pray God the heart and kindly glow, Although the head with cares be bent And whitened with the winter's snow."^ "A gentleman came Xrom.^his pen by the gift of nature." says Steve-r.rc i nson ." Error and suffering and failure and death, those calamities that our contemporaries paint upon so vast a scale - they are all depleted here, but in a more true proportion; we may return, before this pioture, to the simple and ancient faith. Tie may be sure that we give o\ir lives, like coral insects, to build up insensibly, in the twilight of the A sea of time, the reef of righteousness! And we may be sure it is a thing worth doing." 1. Pendennis. Ch.75. P/785. 2. Ballads, to a S. Ballads. Very Old Y7oman. The End of +-^ » rlay E.156. 1.125. 2.—Chapter 2.--Thackeray's Attitude to his Art. Many people, especially during Thackeray's lifetime, misled "by his studies of .rogues and knaves of every description, particular-ly the "rhited sepulchres" of society and fashifeaftSlLft life, called him a cynic, believing that a man -ho persistently disclosed the littlenesses of lift must he so embittered that he could see noth-ing else. Such, however, is not the case. Thackeray liftd a special mission in writing as he did, and that a good'one. His attitude to his art and his afms in satirizing the vices and follies of mankind, follow naturally from the views he held in respect to life. Because he believed the world was fundamentally good, and capable of improve-ment, he set out to scotirge and laugh at sham, to make it both hate-ful and ridiculous, and thus turn people away from it. Because he believed in this power to improve, he tried, in his character as both satirist and humorist to point the road, by showing people what to avoid, and also -hat virtues emulate; and this he believed to be his duty. "If the fight for truth is taking place," he wrote, "and all men of honor are on the ground armed on the one side or the other, and you alone are to lie on your balcony and smoke your pipe out of the noise and the danger, you had better have died, or never have been at all, than suoh a sensual coward." That Thackeray had such a definite aim, and felt his res-ponsibilities as an atithor very deeply, cannot be questioned. " •' What man holding csTuch a place, and knowing that his words &o forth to vast congregations of mankind, - to grown f&lks, to their • • ' • . • i 1 Pendennis. Ch. 61. P.fcW-£7 children's children, - but oust thinfc of his califng with a cole-mn and a humble heart I Hay love rnd truth guide such a nan always! It is an awful prayer; may heaven further its fulfilment!" As editor of the Cornhill Magazine, he did his utmost to put good and healthy reading before the public, and never printed anything that even a child should not read. In regard bo his own novels, he followed the srme policy. He never rrote a ^ord that could csuse a "blush or painted an evil action that did not receive its just punishment, while everything he ever published had a moral hasis. Trtie to life itself, and his novels have all the complexity of -fcft, .his characters, hut after v/e have put down the hook, we cannot fail to realize that the world has "been represented 'GO US as pillared on righteousness, and what is more, we cannot fail to realize that we have imconsciously learned terrible lessons of what folly may lead us into. Just a glance at a few of his characters "111 chow this at once. What might the beautiful Beatrix Esmond have made of her life, had she been less worldly? We can only guess. But in-stead of following her good instincts she set her heart on rank and fortune, and betrayed "by these, became debased °nd lived to be-come the loveless end unloved old r--oman of the "Virginians." Ethel Rewoome, on the contrary, v/as tempted in the seme way, hut her better nature finally triumphed, and she came out of her trials ennobled. The lesson is obvious. But what is yet more obvious is that a deeper lescon may be brought home to the reader by showing the effects of evil, than by praising virtue; vz Trollope points out, Thackeray "thought more could be done by exposing the vices than extolling the virtues of mankind. The Dobbins he did encounter - seldom; 1.. Travels and Sketches in London /on Clubs 1.) I . a^A. • » 5 :•#&£ J&Wd&ii Crawleys very often. Ee sat: around him so much that was mean I It thus "became natural to him t$ insist on the thing which he hated with increasing assiduity, and only to "break out now and thenAa rapture of love for the true nobility which was dear to him - as he did with the character of Dobbin.... The reader as he closes the "booh has on his mind a strong oonviction, the strongest I possible conviction, that among men George is as weak and Dobbin as noble as any he has ever met in literature; and that among women Amelia is as true and Becky as vile as any he has encountered. Cf£ Of so much he will be conscious. In addition to this, her will un-consciously have found that every page he has read v/ill have been of interest to him... And he will find at the end. too, if he will think of it - that the lesson taught in every page has been good. There may be details of evil painted so as to disgust - painted almost too plainly - but none painted so as to allure."" / The aspect of Thackeray's attitude to his art that influenced people the most to call him a cynic, ras, strangely enough, his insistence on realism djw/truth. In the preface to "Pendennis" he wrote, "Since the author of *Tom Jones* r^ as buried, no writer of fiction among us has been permitted to depict to his utmost power a Man. We must drape him, and give him a certain conventional simper-Society will not tolerate the Natural in cur Art." But at the price of being called "cynic," Thackeray, following the lead of Fielding, refused to "drape" his men and women to please the popular taste, but chose to give r,s stories "in which jackdaws will wear peacock's feathers, and awaken the Jast ridicule of the peacocks; in which, I I 1. George Osborne Vanity Fair. > " • ' 2. Anthony Trollope-Ch. 3 page 106-107, "Thackeray" 3ng. "en of l e t t e r s Ser ies Edited by John I 'or ley. . jm h5le every justice is done to the peacocks themselves, the splendour f their plumage, the gorgeousness of their dazzling necks, and the agnificence of their tails, exception will yet he taken to the absurd-ty of their rickety strut, and the foolish discord of their pert queaking;... in Which rogues vail sometimes triumph, and honest folk, et us hope, cone hy their cm;... in which there will he dinners of teSrbs with contentment and without, and banquets of stalled oxen where 'here is care and hatred - ay, and kindnesss and friendship too, along rith the feast. It does not follow that all men are honest because ;hey are poor; and I have knora some who were friendly and generous, ilthough they had plenty of money. There are some great landlords who Lo not grind down their tenants; there are actually bishops who are not rypocrites; there are liberal men even among the Whigs, and the Radicals ;hemselves are not all Aristocrats at heart." So, always in reading Dhackeray, we must remember that like Fielding, "he sat down to write this history to flatter no man," but to guide his pen throughout "by the 2 iirections of truth." As usual, the truth is frequently bitter, and tvhen people found all their own littlenesses and those of society casti-gated, with wonderful insight and acuteness, they felt resentment against Thackeray, and attacked him bitterly, particularly through the London Times." His "Second Funeral of Napoleon,"was severely censured by that newspaper, as being flippant and conceited, because it treated the empty show of that elaborate funeral, with some disgust. His repljr was charact eristic, "The shamming of modesty is the most pert conceit of all the precteuse' affectation of deference where you don't feel it the 'rrecto-se1 ' sneaking acquiescence in lies. It is very hard that a man may not tell 7c r the truth as he fancies it, without "being accused of conceit, but so the world wags."1 That great funeral appeared a humbug to him, and so he called it, but he answers any charge of flippancy that might be made in that work itself. "You are going to say, TI rill read no -ore of this I-Ir. Titmarsh; there is no subject, however solemn, "but he treats it rrith flippant irreverence, and no character, however great, at whom he does not sneer.' Ah, my Sear I you are young now and enthusistic,I and your Titmarsh is old, very old, sad, and grey-headed. I have seen a poor mother "buy a halfpenny wreath \ l at the gate of Kontmartje "burying-ground, and go with it to her little child's grave, and hang it there over the humble stone; and if ever you saw me scorn the mean offering of the poor shahhy creature, I rill give you leave to be rs angry as you rill. Shey say that on the passage of Napoleon's coffin corn the Seine, old soldiers and country people ^alked miles from their villages ]vBt to catch a sight of the boat which carried his body, and to kneel down on the shore and pray for him. God forbid that we should guarrel with such prayers and sorrow, or question their sincerity. Something great and good must have "been in this man, something loving and kindly, that has kept his name so cherished in the popular memory, and gained him such lasting reverence and affection. But, Madam, one may respect the dead without feeling eve-stricken at the plumes< of the hearse; and I see no reason why one should sympathise with the train of mutes •> 1. Lielville Vol. 1. Ch. en L'liscellaneous Authorship. P. 161 Ch. 10.(Article "Hen h Pictvpes" Frasers. July 1849.) *ri. and undertakers, however deep may be thoir ^cuming.... the nation might have erployed the large arm voted for the ruri cse pore M-sely asd generously, end r-corde* its respect for U-poleon by come —orthy and lasting nemo rial, rather *han have erected yonder thousand vain heaps of tinsel, paint and plaster, that are elrcr&y ] cracking and crumbling in the frost, et three days old." It wo-old be more correct, not to say that Thackeray's satire is too biting, but that it is too true. He himself felt this, and wrote, "If 1 truth is not always pleasant, et any rate truth is best from what-ever chair- from those rhence p-raver writers or thinkers argue, or if! from that et which the story-teller sits as he concludes his labour, and bids his kind reader farewell."2 In the "Charity and Humor" lecture he treated the same subject. "The author of this rork has lately been described by the London "Times' as a writer of concidcrablo parts, but a dreary misanthrope who sees no good anyrhere, who sees the sky above him green, I think, instead of blue, and only miserable sinners around him. So we are, as is every writer end reader, I •ever heard of, so was every being who ever trod the earth, save One. I oannot help telling the truth as I view it, and describing what I see. To describe it otherrise than it seems to me ~culd be falsehood Hn that calling in which it has pleased Heaven to place me; treason to that conscience which says that men are weak; that truth must be told; that faults must be owned; that pardon must be prayed for; and that Love reigns supreme over all." That Thackeray-* felt his aim and even his duty, was to correct vices by showing them up in all 1. The Second Funeral 2. Preface to 4. Biographical intro-°.£ ^ a P o l e o n ' Pa:rt 2* lendennis 'auction to "7,'orld Library PP. 327-328. "Edition of "Vanity Pair." 5."Vanity Pair." 72 their ugliness and making them abhorrent, and at the same time delineating them with truth, is evident fro™ even hie : rivate correspondence, and consequently, *"ith such a good r"orp°se ever in his mind, he chafed under the name of cynic. A letter he wrote in reply to a gift from some Edinburgh admirers, just "before the completion of "Vanity Fair" shows this ^cry «-ell. "Such tokens of regard and sympathy," he said, "are very precious to a writer like myself, who ha^& some difficulty st'ill in making people understand what you have been good enough to find out in Edinburgh, that under the mask satirical there walks about a sentimental gentleman who means not unAkindly to any mortal person.... I assure you these tokens of what I oan't help acknowledging as popularity, make me humble as well as grateful, and make me feel an awful sense of the responsibility which falls upon a man in such a station. Is it deserved or undeserved? T7ho is this that sets up to preach to man-kind, and to laugh at many things which men reverence? I hope I may be able to tell the truth always, and to s^ e it aright, accord-ing to the eyes which God Almighty gives me. And if in the exercise of my calling I get friends, and find encouragement and sympathy, I need not tell you how much I feel and am thankful for this support. Indeed, I can't reply lightly upon this subject, or feel otherwise than very grave when people begin to praise me as ycu do!' *And no one who reads his rorks can doubt but that he always told the truth as he viewed it, ?nd that he viewed it with good judgment end kindly sympathy. One other aspect of his art led people to call Thackeray a cynic, and that was Thackeray's aversion to snobs. £any people who should have known Letter, considered his "Snob Tapers" as bitter and malignant attacks, tinder the cloak of a pretended humor, on English society; attacks "Ghat were unjustified and without any other motive for their appearance than the authors spleen against mankind. Even Trollope, who knew end admired Thackeray, was deceived, for on the subject of the "Snob Papers, "he -..rote, "Everybody knows that a bad specimen of his order may be found in every division of society. We did not want a special satirist to tell us That te all knew before. Had snobbishness been divided for us into its various attributes and chaTacteris'cics, rather than attribute* to various classes, the end sought - the exposure, namely of the evil, - would have been better attained. The snobbishness of flattery, of falsehood, of cowardice, lying, time-serving, money-worship, would have been perhaps attacked to a better purpose than that of kings, priests, soldiers, merchants or men of letters." Thackeray did indeed head his papers "The Snob Royal," "Military Snobs" and so on, but under these headings he did attack the snobbishness of flattery and other vices. He was too much of an artist to give his readers a medieval merality play. 3$ is It is an old truism, that people never attribute to themselves any vices that are presented in an abstract way. It is only when the writer descends to peisonalities that people begin to reel the truth brought home to them, and this was what Thackeray desired. Horeover not the classes of society named, but merely certain individual members of those classes wholly ^ obbish. If all writers were to make their satires impersonal, how intinitely wearying they would become; besides as Thackeray himself wrote, "Some are celled u|on to preach; let them preach. Of these preachers there are somewhat too d 7*. TV 11 many, methinks, rho fancy they have the gift. But we cannot all he nl parsons in church,that is clear. How anyone could fail to mistake the glorious fun that rims riot through the whole "Book of Snohs" now seems incomprehensible. To produce aay effect humor must always exaggerate.: Caricatures height-en certain conspicuous features of their subjects without distorting the whole beyond recognition, lending piquancy to the prodcution by 11 the undeniable element of truth that underlies the work. Most cer-tainly Thackeray exaggerated, that is what makes the "Bool: of Snobs" so inexpressibly delightful and so eminently readable, but after we have read and laughed, we cannot help realizing that there is a ker-nel of truth in the presentation, and as soon as we have realized this the author's purpose is achieved. Take for example, the satire on tuft-hunting,called, "On Some Respectable Snobs."2 After reading the amusing stmxggles of the Be Mogyns (once Muggins) to acquire famous ancestors, a coat of arms, "mullion garbled, gules on sattire reversed of the second," a crest, "Tom-tit rampant regardantt™* and become ultra-aristocratic and exclusi*ve, we are at once aware of the satire. That these satires had their proper effect is undoubted, Sydney Scraper, "the most placid, polite and genteel of Snobs, who never exceeded his allowance of two hundred a year, and who may be seen any evening at the 'Oxford and Cambridge Club' simpering over the Quarterly Review1 in the blameless enjoyment of his half-pint of port,""seemed to have created something of a sensation, for in a paper of a later date, Thackeray commenced, "We have been called to task for betraying the secrets of three different families of Be Mogyns; and young gentle-1. Pendennis. Ch. 1.641.--2. Book of Snobs, Ch.7 pps30-S4.--S.Ch.'7.P.S3 .4.Ch.-6f.P.50. J ;... men are quite shy ©f ©r&ering half-a-pint of port and simpering over the 'Quarterly Review' at the Club, lest they be mistaken for Sydney Scraper, Esq.... Ho, we are not personal in these candid remarks. As Phidias took the pick of a score of beauties before he completed a Ve-nus, so have we to examine, perhaps, a thousand Snobs, before one is expressed upon paper. That he never cast ridicule on any but those who deserved it, is evident throughout, especially in his paper on "Clerical Snobs."2 Such a glance as this into Thackeray's humor and his purpose in writing about Snobs, would surely have prevented Trollope taking these attacks too seriuusly and saying, "He saw some-thing that was distasteful, and a man instantly became a snob in his estimation. The little courtesies of the world and the little dis-courtesies became snobbish to him. A man could not rear his hat, or carry his umbrella, or mcjnt his horse without falling into some errop of snobbishness before his hypercritical eyes. St. Miohael would have carried his arms amiss, end St. Cecilia have been snobbish as she twanged her harp."^ The "Snob Papers," uhen are humorous satires, and with Thackeray, humor and satire served a common purpose, of pointing a moral. "If humor," he wrote, "only meant laughter, you would scarcely feel more interest about writers than about the life of poor Harlequin, who possesses in common with these the power of making you laugh. The humorous writer professes to awaken and direct your love, your pity, your kindness - your scorn for untruth, pretension, imposture - your tenderness for the weak, the poor, the oppressed, the unhappy. To tJeeK oj- Snobs. 1. Ch.8.pp. 57-58. 2.Ch.ll. pp. 50-53. B*>* o\ S^oU. 3. Ch.2. p.81. Trollope. To the best of hie means and ability he comments on all the ordinary actions and passions of life almost. He takes upon himself to be the week-day preacher so to speak. Accordingly as he finds, and speaks, and feels Vhe truth best, we regard hia, esteem him - some-times love him. Trollope himself was obliged to admit this, and said, "Though he rarely uttered a i-ord cither rith his pen or his in mouth/which tiller* was not an intention to reach our sense of humor, he never was only funny. T^hen he was most determined to make us laugh, he had always a further purpose; some pity was to be extracted from us in behalf of the sorrows of men, or some indignation at 2 the evil done by them." Thackeray's satiric method of dealing with Snobs, in so far as we can separate it from humor with which it is impregnated (a perform-ance v.ell nigh impossible) is best defined in his own words. "Every-body of the middle rank who walks through his life with a sympathy for his companions on the same journey," he wrote, "at any rate, every man who has been jostling in the v.orld for some three or four lustres -must make no end of melancholy reflections upon the fate of those victims whom Society, that is, Snobbishness, is immolating every day. TJith love and simplicity and natural kindness Snobbishness is perpet-ually at war. leople dare not be happy for fear of Snobs. People dare not love for fear of Snobs. People pine away lonely r.nder the tyranny of Snobs. Honest kindly hearts dry up and die. Gallant generous lads, blooming with hearty youth, swell into bloated old-bachelorhood, and burst and tumble ever. Tender girls wither into shrunken decay, and perish solitary, from whom Snobbishness has cut off the common claim to happiness and affection with which ITature en-1.English Humorists 2. Trollope. Ch.8, On Swift.p.ISO. pp.169-170."" 77 dored ITS all. My heart grors sad as I see the blundering tyrants of handiwork. As I behold it, I swell with cheap rage, and glow with fury against the Snob. Cone dorm, I say, thou skulking dull-ness I Cone dorm, thou stupid bully, and give tip thy brutal ghost I And I arm myself with the srrord and spear, and taking leave of my family, go forth to do battle rith that hideous ogre and giant, that brutal despot in Snob Castle, who holds so many gentle hearts in torture and thrall.H It is obvious that these statements are not to be pushed to their extreme limit, the proof being "Sketches and Travels in London," or "Hr. Brora's letters to His Nephew," which like the "Book of Snobs" is a survey of Society, but in a serious vein. Hr. Brora's advice to his nephew is Thackeray's advice to all young people, and Thackeray's serious views on marriage oan be found in the letter "On love "erriage, Men and V/omen," parts of which I have been quoted before. But in regard to Snobs, he continues, lest he be mistaken, "My con it is you rho are the Snob if you lightly despise a man for doing his duty, and refuse to shake an honest man's hand because it wears a Berlin glcve." "I can bear it no longer -this diabolical invention of gentility which kills natural kindliness and honest friendship.... I am sick of 'Court $rculars.* I loathe 'haut-ton' intelligence. I believe such ™ords as Fashionable, SxcluBive^ Aristocratic, and the like, to be wicked, unchristian epi-thets.... You, who despise your neighbor are a Snob; you, who for-get your own friends, meanly to follow after those of a higher degree are a Snob; you, who are ashamed of your poverty, and blush for your 1. "nobs and Marriage 2.Travels and Sketches 5. onobs. Ch.55.P.152. in London. pp.S92-S07. Ch.12. P.69, i|! n oolling, ere a Snob; es ere ycv t ho ho?et or your -edigrce, or ere proud of your wealth. To laugh at such is 'LIr. Punch's "business. May he laugh honestly, hit no foul "blow, and tell the truth rhen at his very "broadest grin - never forgetting that if Pun is Good, Truth is still "better, and Love "best of all."1 Part 2. Chapter 3. A man's judgment of others usually provides a key to his own character, and Thackeray ras no e-ception to this rule. Eis crit-icisms of men of letters, reflect on his own nature, and throw light upon the question of his supposed cynicism. Eis only attempt at literary criticism, formally considered, ras his course of lectures on the "English Humorists of the XML- Eighteenth Century," but embracing as this does, ell viers of life from those contained in "Gulliver's Travels" to those in the "Sentimental Journeys", it forms a valuable index to Thackeray's opinion of what in liter?ture is valuable, and to be emulated; and more important still, characterizes his attitude to writers like Srift and Sterne, —ho are the respective embodiments of cynicism and sentimentalism, both of which terms have unwisely been applied to Thackeray himself. Other literary criticisms 2 indeed, may be foi-jid scattered through Thackeray'c rritings, ' but they are informal in nature, and mostly concerning his contemporaries, Scott, Dickens, and Byron. They show, for the most i-&rt, the same attitude towards sham sentiment, and afiectation, on the one hand, and goodness, piety and virtue, on the other, as he adopted fro:" his early youth. i « . . . n* cjw„Vc, z' ^ « - i s Sketch Book. 1. Book of Snobs. •p/v>-!«*ov«,,* -~ C o n o i d O r a t i o n s . pp.ElO-21*. $ 1 * E ^ i Y f I S ; . ) 79. "The English Humorists of the Eighteenth Century" series, res first delivered as a course of lectures before being published in book form. As lectures, the papers were written with more freedom, and with a acre pervading personal note, than a formally written book of criticisms would be, and as a consequence are a surer guide to the individual opinions of the author. Thackeray's view of the cynic, as typified by Swift, in these lectures, is almost sufficient to free him from that charge against himself. In "Gullivers Travels'; Srift satirized the follies of mankind, but the tone of rancor in-creased as the book continued, until we have one of the bitterest and most degarding pictures of life that ever came from the pen of man. The Voyage to the Land of the Houyhnhnms is the most unrorthy part of the satire, and presents the worst vices of which only the basest are capable, as natural attributes of mankind, from which there is no salvation; and not one redeeming feature is granted to man. Every profession from medicine to statecraft is held up to the cruelest ridicule, vrhile an acknowledged evil such as war, is denounced in the most scathing terms. A fair estimate of the ride difference between the style of Srift and that of Thackeray, may be made by comparing their respective treatments of the evils of warfare In "Gulliver's Travels" the picture of war is vile beyond words, in Thackeray's "Chronicle of the Drum", 1the evils of war are brought home to us almost as forcibly, but in a tone of restrained sadness that causes us to muse over the moral rather than hurl the book down in disgust. The same is true when we compare the other satires of Swift and Thackeray. Uowhere in the "Book of Snobs," or even in the 1. Ballads. Vol.3/ 66. "Kewcomes" is there a passage as hitter as this in which Gulliver describes his world to the horse, whose slave he has "become, "Vast numbers of our people are compelled to seek their livelihood by begging, robbing, stealing, cheating, flattering, suborning, for-swearing, forging, gaming, lying, fawning, hectoring, tvoting, scribbling, star-gazing, poisoning, canting, libelling, -free-thinking, and the like occupations, every one of which terms I was at much pains to make him understand." And Swift is at as much pains to make us understand our life from this viewpoint as Gulliver is the flouyhnhnm, whom he so much admired. "And is there less probability in my account of the Kouyhnhnms or Yahoos, " con-tinues^Dean, "when it is manifest, as to the latter, there are so many thousands even in this country who only differ from their brother brutesbecause they use a sort of jabber, and do not go naked?... 1 must freely confess, that, since my last return, some corruptions of my Yahoo nature have revived in me by conversing with a few of your species; else I should never have attempted so absurd a project as that of reforming the Yahoo race in this king-dom: But I have now done with ell such visionary schemes forever. "^ That is, in Swift's opinion, mankind was lower than the beasts, and beyond all hope of salvation. After discussing "Gulliver's Travels',' in his lecture, Thackeray said, "As for the humor and con-duet of this famous fable, I suppose there is no person who reads hut must admire: as for the moral, I think it is horrible, shameful unmanly, blasphemous: and giant, and great as this Dean is, I say we should hoot him... It (PartFour) is Yahoo language: A monster 1. Gulliver's Travels. P T > ^ ~ . , T Part4. P. 3ai 2' Iuld* iifi2^- *f 3J aa IV I 81. gibbering shrieks and gnashing imprecations against mankind -tearing down all shreds of modesty, past all sense of manliness and shame: filthy in word, filthy in thought, furious, raging, obscene. The last part of "Gulliver" is only a consequence of what has gone before: and the rorthlessness of all mankind the pettiness, cruelty, pride, imbecility, the general vanity, the foolish pretention, the nock greatness, the pompous dullness, the mean aims, the base success-es - all these were present to him, it ras rith the din of these curses of the world, blasphemies against heaven, shrieking in his ifj 1 ears, that he began to write his dreadful allegory - of which the meaning is that nan is utterly ricked, desperate and imbecile, and 1 his passions are so monstrous, and his boasted powers so mean, that r he is and deserves to "be the slave of "bnvtes, and ignorance is "better than his Taunted reason. What had this man done? What secret remorse was rankling at his heart? What fever was boiling in him, that he should see the world all blood-shot? We view the world with our own eyes, each of us; and we make from within us the world we see. A weary heart gets no gladness out of snshine; a selfish man is skeptical i about friendship, as a man with no ear doesn't care for music. A frightful self-eoneciousaess it must have been, which looked on mankind so darkly through those keen eyes of Swift."1 Such was Thackeray's judgment of a ****»« cynic. In Swift's private life, Thackeray found scarcely more to recommend him but fcdisliked him be-cause he considered love and marriage mere folly, and did not care fo children. Concerning Swift's manner, Thackeray said, "His hand was 1. English Humorist. On Swift. P. 146. r 82. constantly stretched out to relieve an honest nan - he was captious about his money, hut ready. I think I would rather have had a potato and friendly word from Goldsmith than have been beholden to the Dean for a guinea and a dinner. He insulted a nan as he served him, made women cry, guests looked foolish, bullied un-lucky friends, and flung his henefactions into poor men's faces. Ho: The Dean was no Irishman - no Irishman ever gave out with a kind word and a kind heart."-1- It is evident that Thackeray's ad-miration for the snius o_ Dean Swift was .. Itoge ":-c:;r lost in his loathing for the mans outlook on life, and his failure to see what was good and beautiful, and to love his fellowmen. Such was Thack-eray's attitude to one of the bitterest cynics the world has ever known. After Swift, Thackeray lectured on Congreve, and admired him no more than he did the former. Congreve represented a different degree of cynicism from that of Swift. His cynicism was of the mocking variety, that "believed in the goodness of no man; laughing &t virtue, but yet accepting the world as it was and selfishly grasping at every pleasure to gratify its own whims. Congreve was representative of the age of the Restoration in this respect, and his plays are compounded of a license and wit that oannot be brought upon the stage today. "How can I introduce to you that merry and shameless (jomic ttuse who won him such a reputation?" said Thackeray.*-"She was a disreputable, daring, laughing, painted French baggage, that Conifi Muse. She came over from the continent with Charles at the 1. English Humorists. I5.157-1S8. 2.1660 and on. 83. Restoration - a wild, dishevelled Lais, with eyes bright with wit and wine - a saucy court favorite She was gay and generous as such people can afford to be. But she jade was indefensible and it is pretty certain her servants knew it Congreve*s feasts flare with lights... There doesn't seem to be a pretence of morals. Fathers, husbands, usurers, are the foes these champions contend with. I-oney is for youth, love is for youth, away with the old people. All! this p ro 15y- mcmey^-rh^f €rr—^out&T-^-v^--^^^ pretty merality you have in the comedies of William Congreve. They are fall of wit. Such manners as he observes, he observes with great humor; but all it is a weary feast, that banquet of wit where no love is. It palls very soon; sad indigestion follows it and lonely blank headaches in the morning....He writes as if he was &e accustomed to conquer, that he has a poor opinion of his victims, nothing's new except their faces, says he: 'erery woman is the same! Ee says this in his first comedy which he wrote languidly in illness, when he was an 'excellent young man. Richleliew, at eighty could have hardly said a more excellent thing... A touch of Steeles-1 tenderness is worth all his finery... a beam of Addison's pEBe sunshine, and his tawdry play-house taper is invisible." This light skepticism, and Epicurean de-sire to enjoy, no matter at what cost to others, that formed the rule of conduct for the leading characters of Congreve's plays, Thackeray repudiated as unworthy. "T7e have in Congreve," he continued, "a hu-morous observer to whom the world seems to have no morals at all, and whose ghastly doctrine seems to be that we should eat, drink, and be merry -hen we can, and go to the deuce (if there be a deuce )»•« en the ' » 1. English Humorists.--On Congreve and Addison, pp.165-166-170-172. time cones. We cone nor/ to a humor that flews from quite a diff-erent heart and spirit - a wit that makes us laugh and leaves us good and happy; to one of the kindest benefactors that society has ever had; and I believe you have divined already - Addison." here then v/as what Thackeray really admired, a kind heart and spirit. He believed that the first quality of an artist was to have a good heart, and in his treatment of Addison and Steele, we see that he did indeed believe that if "fu£ is good, truth is better still and love best of all." Why he admired Addison, he made quite plain, "He came in the artificial age and began to speak with his noble natural voice. He came, the gentle satirist who hit no unfair blow; the kind Judge who castigated only in smiling. White Swift went abroad, a literary Jeffreys... He doesn't go very deep. There are no traces of suffering in any of his writings. He was so good, so honest, so healthy, so cheerfully selfish. He had no deep senti-ment. His writings do not show insight into dirrsreverence for the love of women, which I take to be one the consequence of the other. He walks about the world watfiiing their pretty humors, fashions follies, flirtations, rivalries; and noting them with the most charm ing archness. He sees only the public life of women."S So we see that Thackeray's admiration for Addison was not unqualified. That Addison saw only the public life of women vms a fault in the eyes of the nan who wrote, "Hespect all beauty, all innocence...defenfl all defenceleseness in your sister, as in the sisters of other nan... Be respectful to every wonan. A manly and generous heart can be no otherwise... I rould have you aPPly this principle universally 1. English Humorists, pp. 174. 2. Book of Snobs. P.212 On Congreve and Addison. 3. Sng. Humorists!!?!184-186. 85. towards ^onen - iron the finest lady down to the laundress who sets down you Chambers in order... I do not mean to tell you that there are no women in the world vulgar and ill-humored, rancorous and narrow-minded, slaves of fashion; hut I do respect, admire, and al-most worship good women; and I think there is a very fair number of such to he found in this world." This tenderness towards good women is a trait that is found in no cynic. Swift was as hatter against women as men, Congreve said "every woman is the sameyCto Thackeray's disgust,) and even Addison, who was gentle and kind, seemed to know nothing of that tender side of woman's nature that is reserved for her home circle. But Steele pleased Thackeray "better. "He was the first great writer to really respect ^omen. It was Steele who first began to pay a manly tribute to their goodness and understanding, as well as to their tenderness and beauty. In his comedies the heroes do not rant and rave about the divine beauties of G&oriana or Statira; but Steele achnires women's virtue, acknow-ledges their sense, and adores their purity and beauty. It is this ardor and respect, this manliness which makes his comedies so pleasant and their heroes such fine gentlemen. lie says of a certain woman, 'to have loved her was a liberal education.' He loved his wife and children - more than once he speaks In apology of what he called his softness. He would have been nothing without ibis delightful weak-ness. It is that which gives has rorSa their north and his style its charm." The very same could be said of Thackeray when re think of his lady Castlewood or Helen Pendennis, And because Thackeray could portray such women, he was no more of a cynic than Steele. In order to find a cynic's attitude to women, we have only to read Byron's m i m o, J. , . - 2.Eng. Humorists.!.211. 1. Travels and Sketches In London.pp.234-5-5. Steele. c. "Don Juan," the moral contained, there is one with Congreve's, "all T?onen are the sane." Thackeray loved in Steele, the goodness that filled hit heart. '"See how good and innocent and "beautiful romen are, he says; ("..or tender little children, let us love and one another, "brother - God knors -re have need of love and pardon.' So it is each looks rith his c-n •"res, end speaks with his orm. voice, and prays "his c m prayer... .FQrce be rith him! let us think kindly of one w-'cee c c hreast exuberated «-ith human kind-ness."1 And because" Steele's heart "exuberated rith human kindness" Thackeray overlooked the follies of his life and forgave rim his vices. Thackeray's attitude to contemporary writer! is easily under-stood after considering the ideas contained in the English Humorists of the Eighteenth Century." To Byron, he had an aversion that shored itself frequently in his writings, an aversion similar to he that/bore to Congrcve and caused by Byron's cynical attitude to man and especially to romen. The perverted vier of societ; TO in "Don Juan" disgusted Thackeray, rho believed in the eacredness of love and marriage and the purity of romen. Such stanzas as the fofcloring might have come from the pen of Ccn.^ -re^ e, '"Tie melancholy and a fearful sign Of human frailty, folly, also crime, That love and marriage rarely can combine Although they both pre k m in the same clime. Marriage from love, like vinegar from, wine -A sad, Spur, scher beverage - by time Is sharpened from its high celestial flavor, StoWJi to e very sly he1 \d saver. 1. Eng. Humorists. _. 221-22". Steele. C7. here's doubtless something in domaetie doings, Wliioh forms, in fret, true lore's antit-.esAs; Romances paint at full length .3cple's wcoinga. But only give a lust of marriages: For no one ceres for inatriaonial cooings There's nothing wrong in a connuLial hiss. Think you, if Laura had teen letrarch's rife He would have written sennets all his life?'" Altlttuugh srch lines might not have leen penned in entire sorious-ness, nevertheless they contain a lor; and unworthy form of satire that Thackeray considered "base, for Thackerar never attempted to "besmirch what was scored or beautiful in life. In all of'D on Juan" there il not one truly virtuous woman, and love rithout marriage is the sole occupation of the hero. Haidee, it is true, is innocent and lovely, and Byron attested to make the love "between her and Jtian liyllio es that of Ferdinand and Lliranda, "but at best, this episode is nothing "nore or less than immoral, end is dcubly object-ionable because it is vice painted se as to ellure. Byron'B entire ag«inst English society is equally untrue. What an idea of his own oountrymen the j-oet must have had to be able to write, "'Here are chaste *. ives, pure lives: here people pay But what tlies^  please, sad, if that things be dear 'Tis only that they love to throw away Their cash to show how much they have a rear. Here laws are all inviolate; none lay Traps for the traveler; every highway's clear: Here'" - he was interrupted by a knife, Tith - 'Demn yenr eyes! your mcney or your life I' Juan, who <?id not understand e "-ord Of English, esve their shibboleth, 'God damn!' And even that he had so rarely heard He sometimes thrught 'twas only their 'Salaam,' Oh 'God be *-ith youl' end 'tis not absurd To think so; i'or, half English as I en (To my misfortune', never can I say I heard then ^ish 'God with ycu' save that «tty." 88. Again Bjron strikes the same note ae Confrere ia the verse, * "But car je diem, Jtien, c s rpe , cs rpe! To-morrow sees another race cs ray And t r a n s i e n t , and devour 'd by the same harpy, ' L i f e ' s e . c o r f l a y e r ' - ' h e n ' p l ay out- the \ l ey Ye v i l l a i n s I1 and, above a l l , keep a sharp eye Be h y p o c r i t i c a l , be cau t ious , be Hot rha t you seem, but always what you s e e , " 1 And we have seen rha t Thackeray's es t imate of Ccnjreve was. With such misanthropy, Tl ackeray had no pa t ience because of i t s e v i l e f f ec t s on o thers and he always saw the source of i t , not in so-»f tic oiety but in the heart,,misanthropist who carped. "Because Lord Byron, was wicked," he said"and quarreled with the world and found himself growing fat,'and quarreled with his victuals, and thus, naturally, rrew ill-honored, did not half Europe jrow ill-humored too? Did not every poet feel his young affections withered, and *•' 2 despair and darkness cast upon his soul?" "And tell us who have been such social reformers," he continued, ""the haters that is, of the present system, ac> ording to *-hieh we live, love, marry, have children, educate them, and endow them - are they pure themselves? I do not believe one: and direetly a man be~ins to quarrel with the world and its ways, end to lift up, as he calls it the voice of his despair, and preaoh passionately to mankind abcut this tyranny of faith, customs, laws; if re errsmine r^.z*- the personal character of the preacher is, rre begin pretty clecrly to understand the value of the doctrine. Anyone can see why Housseau should be such a whimpering reformer, and Byron such a free and easy misanthropist. '5 Canto 11. p «•-»-Vol. S6. 89. She ertrenes of sentirent zr the other hand, I" ache ray heertily tisliked. He condoned the coldne-s found in A<5-icon, brt ve fie-tested the bathos of sen+irent into which Sterne sank. "Me aaed to blubber perpetually in his study," said Thackeray, ' and finding hie tears infectious, End that the- brought him £-reat popularity, ce exeroised the lucrative gift of weeping; he utilized it and cried on every occasion. I own that I don't value or respect much the cheap dribble of those fountains. This man who can ~ake you laugh, rho oan make you cry too - never lets his reader clone, or rill permit his audience to repose. The man is a ~reat jester, not a great humor-ist. He goes to work systematically end of cold tlood; paints his face, puts on hiB ruff and motley clothes and lays down his carpet and tumbles on it.... he gets out of the chaise and whin}ers over a dead donkey. It is passably a na skilfully done - that dead jackass. I L K But t£» Iff. de Soubises cook on the campaign, Steme dresses it, and serves it up quite tender and with a very piquante sauce. But tears and fine feelings and a white hendkercMef, and a -"uneral sermon, and horses and feathers and a procession of mutes, end a hearse ~ith a derd donkey inside! Psha, mountebankI IT11 not ~ive thee one penny r.ore for that trick, donkey and all! Sore of his dreary 'dcrble entendre' may be attributed to freer tires end runners than ours, but not all. The foul Sctyr's eyes leer out of the leaves constantly: the last '"crds the famous arthor wrote "^re bad and wicked - the last lines the poor strioken vrretoh penned were for pity and pardon. I think of these past writers and of one who lives emonst us now, and am grateful for the innocent laughter and the sweet unsullied page which the author of *David Copperfield' gives to my children."1 1. Eng. Humorists, pp. 515-314. Sterne and Goldsmith. Vol. 22. so. As always, the highest criterion of Art was truth and simplicity, and the first (quality of a writer, to have a ~ood heart. The writer Thackeray most adnired was Fielding, and as Thackeray "tx>fi»d what followed in Fielding's literary footsteps, it is importantnaccording to Thackeray, t^^Sfes^at T;ere the characteristics of Fielding's style and what qualities he had that ^ere so worthy of imitation. Thackeray states them clearly and no comr.ent is necessary but his own. "What a wonderful art!" he said, "what anadmirahle gift of 1 2 nature was it by which the author" of these tales was endowed and which enables him to fix our interest to awaken our sympathy, to 3eige upon our credulity so that we believe in his people - speculate gravely upon their faults and excellences..... What genius I what Rigour? what a bright-eyed intelligence and observation! what a wholesome hatred for meanness and knaveryI what a vast sympathyI what a cheerfulness! what a manly relish of life! what a love of human kind! what a poet is here! - watching, meditating, brooding, creating, What multitudes of truths has that man left behind him! what generation he has taught to laugh wisely and fairly. What scholars he has formed and accustomed to the exercise of thoughtful humor and the play of wit! What a courage he had! What a dauntless and constant cheerfulness of intellect that burned bright and steady through all the storms of his life, and never deserted its last wreck. It is wonderful to think of the pains and misery which the man suffered and that the writer was neither malignant nor melancholy, his views of truth never warped, and his generous human kindness never surrendered'.'3 1. Henry Fielding. 2. Tom Jones. Amelia. S. English Humorists. pp.550. Hogarth, Smollett, Fielding. 91 After reading the last quoted sentence v:e cannot but feel that Thackeray was a worthy pupil of the great master he so admired, in-deed, Thackeray's concluding remarks on Fielding can "be applied with equal truth to Thackeray himself. "He has an admirable natural love of truth, the keenest instinctive antipathy to hypocrisy, the happiest satirical gift of laughing it to scorn. His wit is wonder-fully wise and detective; it flashes upon a rogue and lightens up a rascal like a policeman's lantern. He is one of the manliest and kinliest of hrmam beings: in the midst of all his imperfections he respects female innocence and infantine tenderness as you would suppose sr.ch a great-hearted, courageous sould would respect and care for them. He could not "be so brave, generous, and truth-telligg as he is, were he not infinitely merciful, pitiful, and tender. He will give any man his purse - he can't help kindness and profusion; admires with all his heart good and virttious men, stoops to no flattery, bears no rancour, disdains all disloyal arts, does his public duty, uprightly, is fondly loved by his family and dies at his work, n l And such was Thackeray, as a study of his life and works shows him to be. If this is to be a cynic, thenThackeray was one. 1. English Humorists, pp. 294-295. Vol.23. 92. ' Part 2. -- Conclusion. The Study of Thackeray's life and works has revealed that the charge of cynicism against him shows a total misconception of his aims. His character, compotinded of virtue, kindness, generosity, and contempt for wrong, contained no seeds of misanthropy. He never hurled his "benefactions in poor men's faces, or insulted men as he served them, lifce Swift, hut gave with a kind word and a kind heart. All who knew Thackeray testified to this fact; to quote Trollope once more, "As a man, I protest that it rould he hard to find an individual farther removed from the character (of cynic). To give some immediate pleasure was the great delight of his life. His charity was overflowing, his generosity excessive.. .Such is my idea of the man whom many call a cynic, hut whom I regard as one of the most soft-hearted of human beings, sweet as Charity itself who rent ahcut the world dropping pearls, doing good, and never wilfully inflicting a wound." The many trials and the deep sorrows of his life, never made him bitter against Providence or mankind; on the con-trary, they deepened his sympathy and gentleness. But he was a man of the world and could not fail to see the petty meannesses and crying Injustices of life, and with his passion for truth he believed he served the be~t interests of humanity by writing of what he saw around him, evil as well as good. And for the very reason that he was kind and gentle, the vanities of the world made him sad. His keen sympathy and sensitiveness caused him to enter deeply into the sorrow of others, the tragedy of his own life making him quicker to feel for others. He, l.Tcollope. IP. 60-61. 0h;i. Th<tcKer"<j i). 95. Ee saw a Captain ShindyHnllying all the servants at the club, exid his thoughts rendered a~ay to "poor Lira. Shindy end the children... in dingy lodgings sor.e—here vaited upon by a charity girl in pattens."* Or he saw the gay young men at a University sxending their money recklessly, and he thought, "It may "be very good Tun for Robinson to fuddle himself at home ac he does at College, m d to "be brought home by the policeman he has just been trying to knock down - think what fun it is for the poor old soul^ t his mother I - the half-pay captains's widow, who has been pinching ha«?Bilf all her life long, in order that that jolly young fellow might have a University Education." This was not cynicism, or a desire to find fault, it was sympathy with those whose lot it was to suffer. And, moreover, as Marzials has pointed out, "It should always be remembered during the last few years of his life, he w«s in fail-ing health, end liable to ettacks of acute and terrible pain. Thus one day he would be happy, pleased with those around him,heartily taking his share in life's sociabilities and convivialities, the cheerful chatty guest, the joyous host, the delightful companion -and the next, it might be, the mood would have changed, the cloud of disenchantment, or melancholy, or pain, come down in darkness:-and those who had seen him the day before would wonder at the change, and sometimes resent it. But such fits were rare, and surely excusable." That such was really the c?se, Thackeray himself admitted. "There are moodc," he wrote, "in the mind of the vowel (I) of which we are speaking, -hen it is ill-conditioned and 1. Book of Snobs. &i-±k44. 3. Book of Snobs. Ch.mp.192. d.Roundab^Ttt Ch. 15.£.71. lepers, -PP»* 1:30-0. "0»reB." • / / • Life oj-7h<tcKer«u ?4. c a i t i o u s . ^ o r.lrays '.:c»i ~oo£ hes l th and £oc£ humor? Do ~ct ph i losophers grumble? Are not sa-es ccrBti.-"S out of ten} or? And do not angel-vc-iett go off in t an t r -ms? 1 Y03, c s s u r e £ l ? ( - nd a men cennot be ce l l ed a cynic i o r bolng -c.:>e4-lL,0D out of tec ; o r . In h i s r r i t i n g s , Thackeray T S r.o mere a cynio, th rn in h i s i r i v e t e l i f e . ! ' In h i s Terse end ] r e s " he "ad no nor lesson to t each ; the old t r i e raa ~ood "neirgh for him to r e p e a t . He r c r l d have romen good and pure , and ran brave and t r u e : he rould havo P>arents respec t t h e i r c h i l d r e n , es he v.ould heve the ;ciui*r reverence j jheir e l d e r s . Success i s "but l i t t l e , he vreached, for the race i s not e l r ays t o the s r i f t , end the g rea t may be overthrcirn and the lackey exa l t ed , but none the l e s s ' I f you f a i l or i f you r i s e Bo each, 1 ray Gcd, a gentlemanJ" He tras almost . i n v a r i a b l y hvmorous, says Levis Melville, • 1 th always something more than r e r e fun. lie r e s f requent ly s a t i r i c a l , oc~asion-a l l y ind ignant , sometimes d i d a c t i c , x-suelly tender and ^at" 0 U 0 . l-n could be gay, he ccvld spr ink le ".is r r i t i n g s r i t h p layfu l or i ron io humor ; . . . h i s p e r s o n a l i t y r a s impressed on h i s b e ' t - c rk , a ' -en 's g r ea t hea r t i s t he re for e l l *>ho care t o s e e . ' ''Ah ye knights of the pen!" he r r o t e , "may henor be your s ; ic ld and t r u t h t i j your l anoes . Be gen t l e to a l l gent le people. Be ~<-clePt to - c -en . Be t ender t o oh i ' d r en . And PS for the O r e Ih-rbug, out s ^ r d , and hare a t **hfcn." Eis l i t e r e r y or*»ed i s admirably snared, tap in t v oee few °entences , end t h i s tha t he preached to o thorc , he prac t ices ' h i r s o l f . He armed himself r i t h h i e lance e*i s a t i r e and rode out into the 1 . Roundabout Papers . PP.128-9 "Ogres". S . I e r i s H o l v l l l e . :>. Boundabcut - e p e r s . Seme Aspects of Thackeray. "Ceres* p . 1?4. 95, world to t i l t agains t the Ogre Humbug, and rhen the sharp lance of t r u t h pr icked the Ogre, i t ca l l ed him cynic . I f anyone doubts t h a t Thackeray was jus t t o women, l e t him read the "Shabby Genteel " t o r y , " where the l i t t l e t ragedy of a woman's l i f e i s pa in ted with such exqu i s i t e sympathy; and i f one doubts h i s tenderness t o ch i ldren , l e t him read c e r t a i n of the "Rotindabout Papers . No b e t t e r b r i e f and genera l sujrvey can be foimd of rha t Thackeray's own l i f e must have-i*-<-^ than h i s paragraph on Cruikshanks, the a r t i s t , h i s f r iend and colleague of the "Punch" st&ff- "V.hat labour has Cruishank's been? reek by reek for t h i r t y yea r s , to produce something ner - some smiling of fspr ing of pa in fu l l abor ru.it e independent and d i s t i n c t from i t s ten-thousand j o v i a l b r e t h e m ; in v;Jiet hours of s o r r o r and i l l - h e a l t h to be t o l d by the world, 'make us laugh, or ycu s t a r v e . Give us fresh fun; v;e have ea ten up the old and are hungry. And a l l t h i s has he been obliged to do - to wring laughte r day by day, sometimes perhaps out of r a n t , often c e r t a i n l y from i l l - h e a l t h or depression - to keep the f i r e of h i s b ra in p e r p e t u a l l y s l i g h t : for the greedy publ ic r i l l give no l e i s u r e to cool . This he has done and dene wel l . He has t o l d a thousand t r u t h s in as many s t range and fa sc ina t ing ways; he has given a thousand ner end p leasan t thoughts to mi l l i ons of people, he has never used h is r i t d i shones t ly , he has n^er, i n a l l the exuberance of h i s frolicsome hu-mors caused a s ingle painful or g u i l t y blush. How l i t t l e do r e th ink of the ex t raord inary power of t h i s man, and how ungrateful ^e are to z him. Thackeray could sympathise with t h i s man, because h i s o n l i f e 1. OH Tro Children iaBlack.pp.S-15. Tvubridge Toys. pp.54-60. I On The. (feniuS ot Cjeor^e CruiKshanK's Vol i« f> iHl 96. was not unlike that of Cruikshanks, end because like him he too "never used his wit dishonestly...or caused a single painful or guilty "blush." "I've writ the foolish fancy of his "brain, The aimless jest that striking, hath caused pain; The idffc word that heTd wish back again. I've helped him to pen many a line for bread, To joke, rith senior aching in his head; And make your laughter when his own heart bled. Hor pass the words as idle phrases by: Stranger I I never writ a flattery, Eor signed the page that registered a lie."1 Thus wrote Thackeray's pen, in the album of a friend, and rith truth. "How little do we think of the extraordinary power of this man, and how ungrateful we are to him I" Whatever certain contemporary criticisms may have been, whatever may have been said by those who did not understand the character of Thackeray, or his aims in literature, we who have the pages of his life op'fema before US his collected writings to read at will, must say of him what has been said of Chaucer, also unwisely called a cynic; he was one who loved his fellow-men both good and bad, and found no answer to the puzele of life but in truth and courage and 2 beauty and belief in God." 1. The Pen and the Album. 2. Chaucer and his Poetry.!.218. Ballads. Yol. 21. Kiltredge.(Harvard University Press) pp/56-68. 1915. Bibliography. W. H Thackeray - Works of; Smith, Elder & Co., London, 1679 - 24 vols. It&sdjB Melville - Life of W. H. Thackeray ( IBcYols.) Hutchinson & Co. London 1899. " - Some Aspects Gtf Thackeray. Little, Brown, & Qo. Boston 1911. A. Erollope - Thackeray. Englishmen of ietters series, edited by John Morley, Macmillan & Co. London & Her York 1887. A. Lang - Essays in Little. Henry & Co. London 1891. Brownell - Victorian Prose Masters. Charles Scribners' Sons, Hew York 1901. Burton - Masters of the English Hovel. Henry Holt & Co. Hew York 1915 - pp. 195 - 217. Merivale ft Marzials - Life of Thackeray - Walter Scott, London, 1891. Swift - Gulliver's Travels - Archibald Constable & Co. Edinburgh, 1824. - pp. 3-41. * " - Tale of a Tub. Archibald Constable & Co. Edinburgh. n A Modest proposal " . " " " " J. T. Pryme & Alicia Bayne - Memorials of the Thackeray Family. Spottiswoode & Co. London, 1879. Fielding - Tom Jones (4 vols.) Chas. Scribners' Sons, Hew York 1898. Byron - Poetical works of. - Hurst & Co. Hew York. C P. Johnson - Early Writings of W. M. Thackeray - Elliot Stock London, 1888. Eraser's Magazine - A word on the Annuals. Vol. 16. pp. 757 - 765.' - Elizabeth Brownrigge. Vol. 6. pp. 67 - 88. pp. 151- 148. - Strictures on Pictures. Vol. 17. pp. 758 - 764. - Lectures on Fine Arts. Vol. 19. pp. 743 - 750. Fraser's Magazine - On Hen and Pictures. Yol. 84. pp. 98-111. - Titmarsh in the Picture Galleries. Yol. 29. pp. 700 - 716. Quarterly Review - The Sentiment of Thackeray. Yol. 191. pp. 158-152. Blackwood's Magazine - On the Letters of Thackeray to Mrs. Brookfield. Yol. 142. pp. 697. - On Srift. Yol. 74. pp. 494-518. - Orphan of Pimlico. Yol. 119. pp. 252. Macmillan's Magazine - Mrs. Ritchie - Chapters from Some Unwritten Memoirs. Vol. 65. pp. 424-428; Yol. 66. pp.17 - Philosophy of Thackeray. Yol. 75. pp. 545. Fortnightly Review - The true greatness of Thackeray. Yol. 01. pp. 611-624. English literature. Colonial Press, Hew York, 1900. Yol. 5. pp. 225-256. A short history of English Literature. Macmillan & Co. London. 1919. pp. 745-747. " - Corrected Impressions. Essays on Yictorian Writers. Lodd, Mead, & Co. Sew York, 1895. Garnet-Gosse - English literattire. Macmillan & Co.' London 1904. pp. 272-279. Mrs. Oliphant- Yictorian Age in English Literattire. Percival & Co. London, 1892. Yol. 2. pp. 251-296. Cambridge History of English Literature. Edited, Ward & Waller. Camhridge University Press. 1916. -22 Taine -Saintsiury -I* 

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