XV。DICKENS
　　WhatIhavesaidofDickensremindsmethatIhadbeenreadinghimatthesametimethatIhadbeenreadingIkMarvel;butacuriousthingaboutthereadingofmylaterboyhoodisthatthedatesdonotsharplydetachthemselvesonefromanother。Thismaybesobecausemyreadingwasmuchmoremultifariousthanithadbeenearlier，orbecauseIwasreadingalwaystwoorthreeauthorsatatime。IthinkMacaulayalittleantedatedDickensinmyaffections，butwhenIcametothenovelsofthatmasterfulartist（asImustcallhim，withathousandreservationsastothetimeswhenheisnotamasterandnotanartist），Ididnotfailtofallunderhisspell。
　　Thiswasinaseasonofgreatdepression，whenIbegantofeelinbrokenhealththeeffectoftryingtoburnmycandleatbothends。Itseemedforawhileverysimpleandeasytocomehomeinthemiddleoftheafternoon，whenmytaskattheprinting—officewasdone，andsitdowntomybooksinmylittlestudy，whichIdidnotfinallyleaveuntilthefamilywereinbed;butitwasnotwell，anditwasnotenoughthatI
　　shouldliketodoit。Themostthatcanbesaidindefenceofsuchathingisthatwiththestrongnativeimpulseandtheconditionsitwasinevitable。IfIwastodothethingIwantedtodoIwastodoitinthatway，andIwantedtodothatthing，whateveritwas，morethanI
　　wantedtodoanythingelse，andevenmorethanIwantedtodonothing。
　　IcannotmakeoutthatIwasfondofstudy，orcaredforthethingsIwastryingtodo，exceptasameanstootherthings。Asfarasmypleasurewent，ormynaturalbentwasconcerned，Iwouldratherhavebeenwanderingthroughthewoodswithagunonmyshoulder，orlyingunderatree，orreadingsomebookthatcostmenosortofeffort。Buttherewasmuchmorethanmypleasureinvolved;therewasahopetofulfil，anaimtoachieve，andIcouldnomorehaveleftofftryingforwhatIhopedandaimedatthanIcouldhaveleftoffliving，thoughIdidnotknowverydistinctlywhateitherwas。AsIlookbackattheendeavorofthosedaysmuchofitseemsmerepurblindgroping，wilfulandwandering。IcanseethatdoingallbymyselfIwasnottrulyalawtomyself，butonlyasortofhelplessforce。
　　IstudiedLatinbecauseIbelievedthatIshouldreadtheLatinauthors，andIsupposeIgotasmuchofthelanguageasmostschool—boysofmyage，butIneverreadanyLatinauthorbutCorneliusNepos。IstudiedGreek，andIlearnedsomuchofitastoreadachapteroftheTestament，andanodeofAnacreon。ThenIleftit，notbecauseIdidnotmeantogofarther，orindeedstopshortofreadingallGreekliterature，butbecausethatfriendofmineandItalkeditoveranddecidedthatIcouldgoonwithGreekanytime，butIhadbetterforthepresentstudyGerman，withthehelpofaGermanwhohadcometothevillage。ApparentlyIwascarryingforwardanattackonFrenchatthesametime，forIdistinctlyrecallmyfailuretoenlistwithmeanoldgentlemanwhohadoncelivedalongtimeinFrance，andwhomIhopedtogetatleastanaccentfrom。
　　Perhapsbecauseheknewhehadnoaccentworthspeakingof，orperhapsbecausehedidnotwantthebotherofimpartingit，heneverwouldkeepanyoftheengagementshemadewithme，andwhenwedidmeethesoaboundedinexcusesandsubterfugesthathefinallyescapedme，andIwaslefttoacquireanItalianaccentofFrenchinVenicesevenoreightyearslater。AtthesametimeIwasreadingSpanish，moreorless，butneitherwiselynortoowell。Havinghadsolittlehelpinmystudies，Ihadastupidprideinrefusingall，evensuchasImighthaveavailedmyselfof，withoutshame，inbooks，andIwouldnotreadanySpanishauthorwithEnglishnotes。IwouldhavehiminaneditionwhollySpanishfrombeginningtoend，andIwouldfightmywaythroughhimsingle—handed，withonlysuchaidasImustborrowfromalexicon。
　　Inowcallthisstupid，butIhavereallynomorerighttoblametheboywhowasonceIthanIhavetopraisehim，andIamcertainlynotgoingtodothat。Inhisdayandplacehedidwhathecouldinhisownway;hehadnotrueperspectiveoflife，butIdonotknowthatyoutheverhasthat。Somestrengthcametohimfinallyfromthemerestruggle，undirectedandmisdirectedasitoftenwas，andsuchmentalfibreashehadwastoughenedbytheprolongedstress。Itcouldbesaid，ofcourse，thatthetimeapparentlywastedintheseeffectlessstudiescouldhavebeenwellspentindeepeningandwideningaknowledgeofEnglishliteratureneveryettoogreat，andIhaveoftensaidthismyself;butthen，again，Iamnotsurethatthestudieswerealtogethereffectless。
　　Ihavesometimesthoughtthatgreaterskillhadcometomyhandfromthemthanitwouldhavehadwithout，andIhavetrustedthatinmakingknowntomethesourcesofsomuchEnglish，mylittleLatinandlessGreekhaveenabledmetousemyownspeechwithasubtlersenseofitthanIshouldhavehadotherwise。
　　ButIwillbynomeansinsistuponmyconjecture。Whatiscertainisthatforthepresentmystudies，withoutmethodandwithoutstint，begantotelluponmyhealth，andthatmynervesgavewayinallmannerofhypochondriacalfears。Thesefinallyresolvedthemselvesintoone，incessant，inexorable，whichIcouldescapeonlythroughbodilyfatigue，orthroughsomeabsorbinginterestthattookmeoutofmyselfaltogetherandfilledmymorbidmindwiththeimagesofanother’screation。
　　InthismoodIfirstreadDickens，whomIhadknownbeforeinthereadingIhadlistenedto。ButnowIdevouredhisbooksoneafteranotherasfastasIcouldreadthem。Iplungedfromtheheartofonetoanother，soastoleavemyselfnochanceforthehorrorsthatbesetme。Someofthemremainassociatedwiththegloomandmiseryofthattime，sothatwhenItakethemuptheybringbackitsdreadfulshadow。ButIhavesincereadthemallmorethanonce，andIhavehadmytimeofthinkingDickens，talkingDickens，andwritingDickens，asweallhadwholivedinthedaysofthemightymagician。Ifancythereaderswhohavecometohimsinceheceasedtofilltheworldwithhisinfluencecanhavelittlenotionhowgreatitwas。InthattimehecoloredtheparlanceoftheEnglish—speakingrace，andformeduponhimselfeveryminortalentattemptingfiction。WhilehisglamourlasteditwasnomorepossibleforayoungnovelisttoescapewritingDickensthanitwasforayoungpoettoescapewritingTennyson。Iadmiredotherauthorsmore;Ilovedthemmore，butwhenitcametoaquestionoftryingtodosomethinginfictionIwascompelled，asbyalawofnature，todoitatleastpartiallyinhisway。
　　AllthewhilethatheheldmesofastbyhispotentcharmIwasawarethatitwasaveryroughmagicnowandagain，butIcouldnotassertmysenseofthisagainsthiminmattersofcharacterandstructure。TotheseIgaveinhelplessly;theirverygrotesquenesswasproofoftheirdivineorigin，andIbowedtothecrudestmanifestationsofhisgeniusinthesekindsasiftheywererevelationsnottobedoubtedwithoutsacrilege。Butincertainsmallmatters，asitwereofritual，I
　　sufferedmyselftothink，andIrememberboldlyspeakingmymindabouthisstyle，whichIthoughtbad。
　　IspokeiteventothequaintcharacterwhomIborrowedhisbooksfrom，andwhomightalmosthavecomeoutofhisbooks。HelivedinDickensinameasurethatIhaveneverknownanothertodo，andmycontumelymusthavebroughthimapangthatwastrulyapersonalgrief。Heforgaveit，nodoubtbecauseIbowedintheDickensworshipwithoutquestiononallotherpoints。Hewasthenamanwellontowardsfifty，andhehadcometoAmericaearlyinlife，andhadlivedinourvillagemanyyears，withoutcastingoneofhisEnglishprejudices，orceasingtobeofacontraryopiniononeveryquestion，political，religiousandsocial。
　　Hehadnofixedbelief，buthewenttotheserviceofhischurchwheneveritwasheldamongus，andhereveredtheBookofCommonPrayerwhilehedisputedtheauthorityoftheBiblewithallcomers。Hehadbecomeacitizen，buthedespiseddemocracy，andachievedahardyconsistencyonlybyvotingwiththepro—slaverypartyuponallmeasuresfriendlytotheinstitutionwhichheconsideredthescandalandreproachoftheAmericanname。Fromahearttendertoall，helikedtosaywanton，savageandcynicalthings，butheborenomaliceifyougainsaidhim。Iknownothingofhisorigin，exceptthefactofhisbeinganEnglishman，orwhathisfirstcallinghadbeen;buthehadevolvedamongusfromahouse—paintertoanorgan—builder，andhehadapassionateloveofmusic。
　　Hebuilthisorgansfromthegroundup，andmadeeverypartofthemwithhisownhands;Ibelievetheywereverygood，andatanyratethechurchesinthecountryabouttookthemfromhimasfastashecouldmakethem。Hehadoneinhisownhouse，anditwasfinetoseehimashesatbeforeit，withhislong，tremuloushandsoutstretchedtothekeys，hisnobleheadthrownbackandhissensitivefaceliftedintheraptureofhismusic。Hewasararelyintelligentcreature，andanartistineveryfibre;andifyoudidnotquarrelwithhismanifoldperversities，hewasadelightfulcompanion。
　　AftermyfriendwentawayIfellmuchtohimforsociety，andwetooklong，ramblingwalkstogether，orsatonthestoopbeforehisdoor，orloungedoverthebooksinthedrug—store，andtalkedevermoreofliterature。Hemusthavebeennearlythreetimesmyage，butthatdidnotmatter;wemetintheequalityoftheidealworldwherethereisneitheroldnoryoung，anymorethanthereisrichorpoor。Hehadreadagreatdeal，butofallhehadreadhelikedDickensbest，andwasalwayscomingbacktohimwithaffection，wheneverthetalkstrayed。
　　HecouldnotmakemeoutwhenIcriticisedthestyleofDickens;andwhenIpraisedThackeray’sstyletothedisadvantageofDickens’shecouldonlyaccusemeofasortofaestheticsnobbishnessinmypreference。
　　Dickens，hesaid，wasforthemillion，andThackeraywasfortheuppertenthousand。Hisviewamusedmeatthetime，andyetIamnotsurethatitwasaltogethermistaken。
　　ThereiscertainlyapropertyinThackeraythatsomehowflattersthereaderintothebeliefthatheisbetterthanotherpeople。IdonotmeantosaythatthiswaswhyIthoughthimafinerwriterthanDickens，butIwillownthatitwasprobablyoneofthereasonswhyIlikedhimbetter;ifIappreciatedhimsofullyasIfelt，Imustbeofafinerporcelainthantheearthenpotswhichwerenotawareofanyparticulardifferenceinthevariousliquorspouredintothem。InDickensthevirtueofhissocialdefectisthatheneverappealstotheprinciplewhichsniffs，inhisreader。Thebaseofhisworkisthewholebreadthanddepthofhumanityitself。Itishelplesslyelemental，butitisnotthelessgrandlyso，andifitdealswiththesimplermanifestationsofcharacter，characteraffectedbytheinterestsandpassionsratherthanthetastesandpreferences，itcertainlydealswiththelargermoodsthroughthem。Idonotknowthatinthewholerangeofhisworkheoncesuffersustofeeloursuperioritytoafellow—creaturethroughanysocialaccident，orexceptforsomemoralcause。Thismakeshimveryfitreadingforaboy，andIshouldsaythataboycouldgetonlygoodfromhim。Hisviewoftheworldandofsociety，thoughitwasverylittlephilosophized，wasinstinctivelysaneandreasonable，evenwhenitwasmostimpossible。
　　Wearejustbeginningtodiscernthatcertainconceptionsofourrelationstoourfellow—men，onceformulatedingeneralitieswhichmetwithadramaticacceptationfromtheworld，andwerethenrejectedbyitasmererhetoric，havereallyavitaltruthinthem，andthatiftheyhaveeverseemedfalseitwasbecauseofthefalseconditionsinwhichwestilllive。Equalityandfraternity，thesearetheidealswhichoncemovedtheworld，andthenfellintodespiteandmockery，asunrealities;
　　butnowtheyassertthemselvesinourheartsoncemore。
　　Blindly，unwittingly，erringlyasDickensoftenurgedthem，theseidealsmarkthewholetendencyofhisfiction，andtheyarewhatendearhimtotheheart，andwillkeephimdeartoitlongaftermanyacunningerartificerinlettershaspassedintoforgetfulness。IdonotpretendthatIperceivedthefullscopeofhisbooks，butIwasawareofitinthefinersensewhichisnotconsciousness。WhileIreadhim，Iwasinaworldwheretherightcameoutbest，asIbelieveitwillyetdointhisworld，andwheremeritwascrownedwiththesuccesswhichIbelievewillyetattenditinourdailylife，untrammelledbysocialconventionoreconomiccircumstance。Inthatworldofhis，intheidealworld，towhichtherealworldmustfinallyconformitself，Idweltamongtheshowsofthings，butunderaProvidencethatgovernedallthingstoagoodend，andwhereneitherwealthnorbirthcouldavailagainstvirtueorright。
　　Ofcourseitwasinawayallcrudeenough，andwasalreadycontradictedbyexperienceinthesmallsphereofmyownbeing;butneverthelessitwastruewiththattruthwhichisatthebottomofthings，andIwashappyinit。Icouldnotfailtolovethemindwhichconceivedit，andmyworshipofDickenswasmoregratefulthanthatIhadyetgivenanywriter。Ididnotestablishwithhimthatone—sidedunderstandingwhichIhadwithCervantesandShakespeare;withacontemporarythatwasnotpossible，andasanAmericanIwasdeeplyhurtatthethingshehadsaidagainstus，andthemorehurtbecauseIfeltthattheywereoftensojust。ButIwasforthetimeentirelyhis，andIcouldnothavewishedtowritelikeanyoneelse。
　　IdonotpretendthatthespellIwasunderwaswhollyofamoralorsocialtexture。ForthemostpartIwascharmedwithhimbecausehewasadelightfulstory—teller;becausehecouldthrillme，andmakemehotandcold;becausehecouldmakemelaughandcry，andstopmypulseandbreathatwill。Thereseemedaninexhaustiblesourceofhumorandpathosinhiswork，whichInowfindchokedanddry;IcannotlaughanymoreatPickwickorSamWeller，orweepforlittleNellorPaulDombey;theirjokes，theirgriefs，seemedtometobeturnedon，andtohaveamechanicalaction。Butbeneathallisstillthestrongdriftofagenuineemotion，asympathy，deepandsincere，withthepoor，thelowly，theunfortunate。Inallthatvastrangeoffiction，thereisnothingthattellsforthestrong，becausetheyarestrong，againsttheweak，nothingthattellsforthehaughtyagainstthehumble，nothingthattellsforwealthagainstpoverty。TheeffectofDickensispurelydemocratic，andhowevercontemptiblehefoundourpseudo—equality，hewasmoretrulydemocraticthananyAmericanwhohadyetwrittenfiction。Isupposeitwasourinstinctiveperceptionintheregionofhisinstinctiveexpression，thatmadehimsodeartous，andwoundedoursillyvanitysokeenlythroughourlovewhenhetoldusthetruthaboutourhorribleshamofaslave—basedfreedom。Butatanyratethedemocracyisthereinhisworkmorethanheknewperhaps，orwouldeverhaveknown，oreverrecognizedbyhisownlife。Infact，whenonecomestoreadthestoryofhislife，andtoknowthathewasreallyandlastinglyashamedofhavingonceputupshoe—blackingasaboy，andwasunabletoforgivehismotherforsufferinghimtobesodegraded，oneperceivesthathetoowastheslaveofconventionsandthevictimofconditionswhichitisthehighestfunctionofhisfictiontohelpdestroy。
　　IimaginethatmyearlylikesanddislikesinDickenswerenotverydiscriminating。Iliked’DavidCopperfield，’and’BarnabyRudge，’and’BleakHouse，’andIstilllikethem;butIdonotthinkIlikedthemmorethan’Dombey&Son，’and’NicholasNickleby，’andthe’PickwickPapers，’whichIcannotreadnowwithanysortofpatience，nottospeakofpleasure。Iliked’MartinChuzzlewit，’too，andtheotherdayIreadagreatpartofitagain，andfounditroughlytrueinthepassagesthatreferredtoAmerica，thoughitwassurchargedintheseriousmoods，andcaricaturedinthecomic。TheEnglisharealwaysinadequateobservers;
　　theyseemtoofullofthemselvestohaveeyesandearsforanyalienpeople;butasfarasanEnglishmancould，Dickenshadcaughtthelookofourlifeincertainaspects。Hisreportofitwasclumsyandfarcical;
　　butinalarge，loosewayitwaslikeenough;atleasthehadcaughtthenoteofourself—satisfied，intolerant，andhypocriticalprovinciality，andthiswasnotaltogetherlostinhismockinghorse—play。
　　IcannotmakeoutthatIwasanythelessfondofDickensbecauseofit。
　　IbelieveIwasrathermorewillingtoacceptitasafaithfulportraiturethenthanIshouldbenow;andIcertainlynevermadeanyquestionofitwithmyfriendtheorgan—builder。’MartinChuzzlewit’wasafavoritebookwithhim，andsowasthe’OldCuriosityShop。’NodoubtafanciedaffinitywithTomPinchthroughtheircommonloveofmusicmadehimlikethatmostsentimentalandimprobablepersonage，whomhewouldhavedisownedandlaughedtoscornifhehadmethiminlife;butitwasapurelyaltruisticsympathythathefeltwithLittleNellandhergrandfather。Hewasfondofreadingthepatheticpassagesfrombothbooks，andIcanstillhearhisrich，vibrantvoiceasitlingeredintremulousemotionontheperiodsheloved。Hewouldcatchthevolumeupanywhere，anytime，andbegintoread，atthebook—store，ortheharness—
　　shop，orthelaw—office，itdidnotmatterinthewideleisureofacountryvillage，inthosedaysbeforethewar，whenpeoplehadallthetimetherewas;andhewassureofhisaudienceaslongashechosetoread。OneChristmaseve，inanswertoageneralwish，hereadthe’ChristmasCarol’intheCourt—house，andpeoplecamefromallabouttohearhim。
　　Hewasaninvalidandhediedlongsince，endingalifeofsufferinginthesaddestway。Severalyearsbeforehisdeathmoneyfelltohisfamily，andhewentwiththemtoanEasterncity，wherehetriedinvaintomakehimselfathome。Heneverceasedtopineforthevillagebehadleft，withitsoldcompanionships，itseasyusages，itsfamiliarfaces;
　　andheescapedtoitagainandagain，tillatlasteverytiewassevered，andhecouldcomebacknomore。Hewasneverreconciledtothechange，andinamannerhedidreallydieofthehomesicknesswhichdeepenedanhereditarytaint，andenfeebledhimtothedisorderthatcarriedhim。
　　off。MymemoriesofDickensremainmingledwithmymemoriesofthisquaintandmostoriginalgenius，andthoughIknewDickenslongbeforeI
　　knewhislover，Icanscarcelythinkofonewithoutthinkingoftheother。
　　XVI。WORDSWORTH，LOWELL，CHAUCER
　　CertainotherbooksIassociatewithanotherpatheticnature，ofwhomtheorgan—builderandIwerebothfond。Thiswastheyoungpoetwholookedafterthebookhalfofthevillagedrugandbookstore，andwhowrotepoetryinsuchleisureashefoundfromhisduties，andwithsuchstrengthashefoundinthediseasepreyinguponhim。HemusthavebeenfargoneinconsumptionwhenIfirstknewhim，forIhavenorecollectionofatimewhenhisvoicewasnotfaintandhusky，hissweetsmilewan，andhisblueeyesdullwiththediseasethatwastedhimaway，"Likewaxinthefire，Likesnowinthesun。"
　　Peoplespokeofhimasoncestrongandvigorous，butIrecallhimfragileandpale，gentle，patient，knowinghisinexorabledoom，andnothopingorseekingtoescapeit。Astheenddrewnearhelefthisemploymentandwenthometothefarm，sometwentymilesaway，whereIdroveouttoseehimoncethroughthedeepsnowofawinterwhichwastobehislast。
　　Myheartwasheavyallthetime，buthetriedtomakethevisitpasscheerfullywithourwontedtalkaboutbooks。Onlyatparting，whenhetookmyhandinhisthin，coldclasp，hesaid，"Isupposemydiseaseisprogressing，"withthepatiencehealwaysshowed。
　　Ididnotseehimagain，andIamnotsurenowthathisgiftwasverydistinctorverygreat。Itwasslightandgracefulrather，Ifancy，andifhehadliveditmightnothavesufficedtomakehimwidelyknown，buthehadarealandaverydelicatesenseofbeautyinliterature，andIbelieveitwasthroughsympathywithhispreferencesthatIcameintoappreciationofseveralauthorswhomIhadnotknown，orhadnotcaredforbefore。Therecouldnothavebeenmanyshelvesofbooksinthatstore，andIcametobeprettywellacquaintedwiththemallbeforeIbegantobuythem。Forthemostpart，Idonotthinkitoccurredtomethattheyweretheretobesold;forthispalepoetseemedindifferenttothecommercialpropertyinthem，andonlytowishmetolikethem。
　　Iamnotsure，butIthinkitwasthroughsomevolumewhichIfoundinhischargethatIfirstcametoknowofDeQuincey;hewasfondofDr。Holmes’spoetry;helovedWhittierandLongfellow，eachrepresentedinhisslenderstockbysomedistinctivework。TherewereseveralstrayvolumesofThackeray’sminorwritings，andIstillhavethe’YellowplushPapers’inthesmoothredcloth（nowprettywelltattered）ofAppleton’sPopularLibrary，whichIboughtthere。ButmostofthebookswereinthefamousoldbrownclothofTicknor&Fields，whichwasawarrantofexcellenceintheliteratureitcovered。Besidesthesetherewerestandardvolumesofpoetry，publishedbyPhillips&Sampson，fromworn—
　　outplates;forabirthdaypresentmymothergotmeWordsworthinthisshape，andIamgladtothinkthatIoncereadthe"Excursion"init，forIdonotthinkIcoulddosonow，andIhaveafeelingthatitisveryrightandfittohavereadthe"Excursion。"Tobehonest，itwasveryhardreadingeventhen，andIcannottruthfullypretendthatIhaveeverlikedWordsworthexceptinparts，thoughforthematterofthat，Idonotsupposethatanyoneeverdid。Itriedhardenoughtolikeeverythinginhim，forIhadalreadylearnedenoughtoknowthatIoughttolikehim，andthatifIdidnot，itwasaproofofintellectualandmoralinferiorityinme。Myearlyidol，Pope，hadalreadybeentumbledintothedustbyLowell，whoselecturesonEnglishPoetryhadlatelybeengiveninBoston，andhadmetwithmyrapturousacceptanceinsuchnewspaperreportasIhadofthem。So，mypreoccupationswereallinfavoroftheLakeSchool，anditwasbothinmywillandmyconsciencetolikeWordsworth。IfIdidnotdosoitwasnotmyfault，andthefaultremainsverymuchwhatitfirstwas。
　　IfeelandunderstandhimmoredeeplythanIdidthen，butIdonotthinkthatIthenfailedofthemeaningofmuchthatIreadinhim，andIamsurethatmysenseswerequicktoallthebeautyinhim。Aftersufferingoncethroughthe"Excursion"Ididnotafflictmyselfwithitagain，buttherewereotherpoemsofhiswhichIreadoverandover，asIfancyitisthehabitofeveryloverofpoetrytodowiththepiecesheisfondof。Still，IdonotmakeoutthatWordsworthwaseverapassionofmine;
　　ontheotherhand，neitherwasByron。Him，too，IlikedinpassagesandincertainpoemswhichIknewbeforeIreadWordsworthatall;Ireadhimthroughout，butIdidnottrytoimitatehim，andIdidnottrytoimitateWordsworth。
　　ThoselecturesofLowell’shadagreatinfluencewithme，andItriedtolikewhatevertheybademelike，afterafashioncommontoyoungpeoplewhentheybegintoreadcriticisms;theiraestheticprideistouched;
　　theywishtorealizethattheytoocanfeelthefinethingsthecriticadmires。Fromthismotivetheydoagreatdealoffactitiousliking;
　　butafteralltheaffectionswillnotbebidden，andthecriticcanonlyavailtogiveapointofview，toenlightenaperspective。WhenIreadLowell’spraisesofhim，IhadallthewillintheworldtoreadSpencer，andIreallymeanttodoso，butIhavenotdonesotothisday，andasoftenasIhavetriedIhavefounditimpossible。ItwasnotsowithChaucer，whomIlovedfromthefirstwordofhiswhichIfoundquotedinthoselectures，andinChambers’s’EncyclopaediaofEnglishLiterature，’
　　whichIhadborrowedofmyfriendtheorgan—builder。
　　Infact，ImayfairlyclassChauceramongmypassions，forIreadhimwiththatsortofpersonalattachmentIhadforCervantes，whoresembledhiminacertainsweetandcheeryhumanity。ButIdonotallegethisasthereason，forIhadthesamefeelingforPope，whowasnotlikeeitherofthem。Kissinggoesbyfavor，inliteratureasinlife，andonecannotquiteaccountforone’spassionsineither;whatiscertainis，IlikedChaucerandIdidnotlikeSpencer;possiblytherewasanaffinitybetweenreaderandpoet，butiftherewasIshouldbeatalosstonameit，unlessitwasthelikingforreality;andthesenseofmotherearthinhumanlife。BythetimeIhadreadallofChaucerthatIcouldfindinthevariouscollectionsandcriticisms，myfatherhadbeenmadeaclerkinthelegislature，andononeofhisvisitshomehebroughtmethepoet’sworksfromtheStateLibrary，andIsetaboutreadingthemwithaglossary。Itwasnoteasy，butitbroughtstrengthwithit，andliftedmyheartwithasenseofnoblecompanionship。
　　IwillnotpretendthatIwasinsensibletothegrossnessofthepoet’stime，whichIfoundoftenenoughinthepoet’sverse，aswellasthegoodnessofhisnature，andmyfatherseemstohavefeltacertainmisgivingaboutit。Herepeatedtomethelibrarian’squestionastowhetherhethoughtheoughttoputanunexpurgatededitioninthehandsofaboy，andhisownanswerthathedidnotbelieveitwouldhurtme。
　　Itwasakindofappealtometomaketheeventjustifyhim，andI
　　supposehehadnotgivenmethebookwithoutduereflection。Probablyhereasonedthatwithmygreedforallmannerofliteraturethebadwouldbecomeknowntomealongwiththegoodatanyrate，andIhadbetterknowthatheknewit。
　　Thestreamsoffilthflowdownthroughtheagesinliterature，whichsometimesseemslittlebetterthananopensewer，and，asIhavesaid，Idonotseewhythetimeshouldnotcomewhenthenoxiousandnoisomechannelsshouldbestopped;butthebaseofthemindisbestial，andsofarthebeastinushasinsisteduponhavinghisfullsay。Theworstoflewdliteratureisthatitseemstogiveasanctiontolewdnessinthelife，andthatinexperiencetakesthiseffectforreality：thatisthedangerandtheharm，andIthinkthefactoughtnottobeblinked。
　　Comparedwiththemeanerpoetsthegreaterarethecleaner，andChaucerwasprobablysaferthananyotherEnglishpoetofhistime，butIamnotgoingtopretendthattherearenotthingsinChaucerwhichaboywouldbethebetterfornotreading;andsofarasthesewordsofmineshallbetakenforcounsel，Iamnotwillingthattheyshouldunqualifiedlypraisehim。Thematterisbynomeanssimple;itisnoteasytoconceiveofameansofpurifyingtheliteratureofthepastwithoutweakeningit，andevenfalsifyingit，butitisbesttoownthatitisinallrespectsjustwhatitis，andnottofeignitotherwise。Iamnotreadytosaythattheharmfromitispositive，butyoudogetsmearedwithit，andthefilthythoughtliveswiththefilthyrhymeintheear，evenwhenitdoesnotcorrupttheheartormakeitseemalightthingforthereader’stongueandpentosininkind。
　　IlovedmyChaucertoowell，Ihope，nottogetsomegoodfromthebestinhim;andmyreadingofcriticismhadtaughtmehowandwheretolookforthebest，andtoknowitwhenIhadfoundit。OfcourseIbegantocopyhim。Thatis，Ididnotattemptanythinglikehistalesinkind;
　　theymusthaveseemedtoohopelesslyfarawayintasteandtime，butI
　　studiedhisverse，andimitatedastanzawhichIfoundinsomeofhisthingsandhadnotfoundelsewhere;Irejoicedinthefreshnessandsweetnessofhisdiction，andthoughIfeltthathisstructurewasobsolete，therewasinhiswordingsomethinghomelierandheartierthantheimportedanaloguesthathadtakentheplaceofthephrasesheused。
　　IbegantoemployinmyownworkthearchaicwordsthatIfanciedmost，whichwasfutileandfoolishenough，andIformedapreferenceforthesimplerAnglo—Saxonwoofofourspeech，whichwasnotsobad。Ofcourse，beingleftsomuchasIwastomyownwhiminsuchthings，Icouldnotkeepajustmean;IhadanaversionfortheLatinderivativeswhichwasnothingshortofacraze。Somehalf—bredcriticwhomIhadreadmademebelievethatEnglishcouldbewrittenwithoutthem，andhadbetterbewrittenso，andIdidnotescapefromthislamentableerroruntilIhadproducedwithwearinessandvexationofspiritseveralpiecesofprosewhollycomposedofmonosyllables。IsuspectnowthatIdidnotalwaysstoptoconsiderwhethermyshortwordswerenotasLatinbyraceasanyofthelongwordsIrejected，andthatIonlymadesuretheywereshort。
　　Thefrivolousingenuitywhichwasteditselfinthisexercisehappilycouldnotholdoutlong，andinverseitwasprettywellhelplessfromthebeginning。YetIwillnotaltogetherblameit，foritmademeknow，asnothingelsecould，theresourcesofourtongueinthatsort;andintherevoltfromtheslavishbondageItookuponmyselfIdidnotgosofarastoplungeintoanyverywildpolysyllabicexcesses。IstilllikethelittlewordifitsaysthethingIwanttosayaswellasthebigone，butIhonoraboveallthewordthatsaysthething。AtthesametimeIconfessthatIhaveaprejudiceagainstcertainwordsthatI
　　cannotovercome;thesightofsomeoffendsme，thesoundofothers，andratherthanuseoneofthosedetestedvocables，evenwhenIperceivethatitwouldconveymyexactmeaning，Iwouldcastaboutlongforsomeother。
　　Ithinkthisisafoible，andadisadvantage，butIdonotdenyit。
　　AnauthorwhohadmuchtodowithpreparingmeforthequixoticfollyinpointwasthatThomasBabingtonMacaulay，whotaughtsimplicityofdictioninphrasesofas"learnedlengthandthunderingsound，"asanyhewouldhavehadmeshun，andwhodeploredtheLatinisticEnglishofJohnsonintermsemulousofthegreatdoctor’sorotundityandronderosity。IwondernowthatIdidnotseehowmyphysicianavoidedhismedicine，butIdidnot，andIwentontospendmyselfinanendeavorasvainandsenselessasanythatpedantryhasconceived。ItwasnonethelessabsurdbecauseIbelievedinitsodevoutly，andsacrificedmyselftoitwithsuchinfinitepainsandlabor。ButthiswaslongafterIreadMacaulay，whowasoneofmygrandpassionsbeforeDickensorChaucer。
　　XVII。MACAULAY
　　Oneofthemanycharactersofthevillagewasthemachinistwhohadhisshopunderourprinting—officewhenwefirstbroughtournewspapertotheplace，andwhowasjustthenamachinistbecausehewastiredofbeingmanyotherthings，andhadnotyetmadeuphismindwhatheshouldbenext。Hecouldhavebeenwhateverheturnedhisagileintellectandhiscunninghandto;hehadbeenaschoolmasterandawatch—maker，andI
　　believeanamateurdoctorandirregularlawyer;hetalkedandwrotebrilliantly，andhewasoneofthegroupthatnightlydisposedofeverymanneroftheoreticalandpracticalquestionatthedrug—store;itwasquiteindifferenttohimwhichsidehetook;whatheenjoyedwasthementalexercise。Hewasinconsumption，assomanywereinthatregion，andhecarbonizedagainstit，ashesaid;hetookhiscarbonintheliquidform，andthelasttimeIsawhimthecarbonhadfinallyprevailedovertheconsumption，butithaditselfbecomeaseatedvice;thatwasmanyyearssince，anditismanyyearssincehedied。
　　Hemusthavebeenknowntomeearlier，butIrememberhimfirstasheswamvividlyintomyken，withavolumeofMacaulay’sessaysinhishand，oneday。Lessfigurativelyspeaking，hecameupintotheprinting—officetoexposefromthebookthenefariousplagiarismofaneditorinaneighboringcity，whohadadaptedwiththechangeofnamesandawordortwohereandthere，wholepassagesfromtheessayonBarere，tothedenunciationofabrothereditor。Itwasaverysimple—heartedfraud，anditwasalldonewithaninnocenttrustinthepopularignorancewhichnowseemstomealittlepathetic;butitwascertainlyverybarefaced，andmeritedthepublicpunishmentwhichthediscovererinflictedbymeansofwhatjournalistscallthedeadlyparallelcolumn。Theeffectoughtlogicallytohavebeenruinousfortheplagiarist，butitwasreallynothingofthekind。Hesimplyignoredtheexposure，andthecommentsoftheothercitypapers，andintheprocessoftimeheeasilyliveddownthememoryofitandwentontogreaterusefulnessinhisprofession。
　　Butforthemomentitappearedtomeatremendouscrisis，andIlistenedastheministerofjusticereadhiscommunication，withathrillwhichlostitselfintheinterestIsuddenlyfeltintheplunderedauthor。
　　ThosefacileandbrilliantphrasesandideasstruckmeasthefinestthingsIhadyetknowninliterature，andIborrowedthebookandreaditthrough。ThenIborrowedanothervolumeofMacaulay’sessays，andanotherandanother，tillIhadreadthemeveryone。Itwaslikealongdebauch，fromwhichIemergedwithregretthatitshouldeverend。
　　Itriedotheressayists，othercritics，whomthemachinisthadinhislibrary，butitwasuseless;neitherSidneySmithnorThomasCarlylecouldconsoleme;IsighedformoreMacaulayandevermoreMacaulay。I
　　readhisHistoryofEngland，andIcouldmeasurablyconsolemyselfwiththat，butonlymeasurably;andIcouldnotgobacktotheessaysandreadthemagain，foritseemedtomeIhadabsorbedthemsothoroughlythatI
　　hadleftnothingunenjoyedinthem。Iusedtotalkwiththemachinistaboutthem，andwiththeorgan—builder，andwithmyfriendtheprinter，butnooneseemedtofeeltheintensefascinationinthemthatIdid，andthatIshouldnowbequiteunabletoaccountfor。
　　OncemoreIhadanauthorforwhomIcouldfeelapersonaldevotion，whomIcoulddreamofanddoteupon，andwhomIcouldoffermyintimacyinmanyanimpassionedrevery。IdonotthinkT。B。Macaulaywouldreallyhavelikedit;IdaresayhewouldnothavevaluedthefriendshipofthesortofayouthIwas，butintheconditionshewashelpless，andI
　　pouredoutmyloveuponhimwithoutarebuff。OfcourseIreformedmyprosestyle，whichhadbeencarefullymodelleduponthatofGoldsmithandIrving，andbegantowriteinthemannerofMacaulay，inshort，quicksentences，andwiththeprevalentuseofbriefAnglo—Saxonwords，whichheprescribed，butdidnotpractise。Asforhisnotionsofliterature，I
　　simplyacceptedthemwiththefeelingthatanyquestionofthemwouldhavebeenlittlebetterthanblasphemy。
　　Foralongtimehespoiledmytasteforanyothercriticism;hemadeitseempale，andpoor，andweak;andhebluntedmysensetosubtlerexcellencesthanIfoundinhim。Ithinkthiswasapity，butitwasathingnottobehelped，likeagreatmanythingsthathappentoourhurtinlife;itwassimplyinevitable。HoworwhenmyfrenzyforhimbegantoabateIcannotsay，butitcertainlywaned，anditmusthavewanedrapidly，forafternogreatwhileIfoundmyselffeelingthecharmofquitedifferentminds，asfullyasifhishadneverenslavedme。I
　　cannotregretthatIenjoyedhimsokeenlyasIdid;itwasinawayagenerousdelight，andthoughheswayedmehelplesslywhateverwayhethought，Idonotthinkyetthatheswayedmeinanyverywrongway。Hewasabrightandclearintelligence，andifhislightdidnotgofar，itistobesaidofhimthathisworstfaultwasonlytohavestoppedshortofthefinesttruthinart，inmorals，inpolitics。
　　XVIII。CRITICSANDREVIEWS
　　WhatremainedtomefrommyloveofMacaulaywasaloveofcriticism，andIreadalmostasmuchincriticismasIreadinpoetryandhistoryandfiction。Itwasofaneccentricdoctor，anotherofthevillagecharacters，thatIgottheworksofEdgarA。Poe;Idonotknowjusthow，butitmusthavebeeninsomeexchangeofbooks;hepreferredmetaphysics。AtanyrateIfellgreedilyuponthem，andIreadwithnolesszestthanhispoemsthebitter，andcruel，andnarrow—mindedcriticismswhichmainlyfilledoneofthevolumes。Asusual，Iacceptedthemimplicitly，anditwasnottilllongafterwardsthatIunderstoodhowworthlesstheywere。
　　Ithinkthathardlylessimmoralthanthelubricityofliterature，anditscelebrationofthemonkeyandthegoatinus，isthespectaclesuchcriticismaffordsofthetigerishplayofsatire。Itismonstrousthatfornooffencebutthewishtoproducesomethingbeautiful，andthemistakeofhispowersinthatdirection，awritershouldbecomethepreyofsomeferociouswit，andthathistormentorshouldachievecreditbyhislightnessandeaseinrendinghisprey;itisshockingtothinkhowalluringanddepravingthefactistotheyoungreaderemulousofsuchcredit，andeagertoachieveit。BecauseIadmiredthesebarbaritiesofPoe’s，Iwishedtoirritatethem，tospitsomehaplessvictimonmyownspear，tomakehimsufferandtomakethereaderlaugh。Thisisasfaraspossiblefromthecriticismthatenlightensandennobles，butitisstilltheidealofmostcritics，denyitastheywill;andbecauseitistheidealofmostcriticscriticismstillremainsbehindalltheotherliteraryarts。
　　IamgladtorememberthatatthesametimeIexultedintheseferocitiesIhadmindenoughandheartenoughtofindpleasureinthetruerandfinerwork，thehumanerworkofotherwriters，likeHazlitt，andLeighHunt，andLamb，whichbecameknowntomeatadateIcannotexactlyfix。
　　IbelieveitwasHazlittwhomIreadfirst，andhehelpedmetoclarifyandformulatemyadmirationofShakespeareasnooneelsehadyetdone;
　　Lambhelpedmetoo，andwithallthedramatists，andoneveryhandIwasreachingoutforlightthatshouldenablemetoplaceinliteraryhistorytheauthorsIknewandloved。
　　IfancyitwaswellformeatthisperiodtohavegotatthefourgreatEnglishreviews，theEdinburgh，theWestminster，theLondonQuarterly，andtheNorthBritish，whichIreadregularly，aswellasBlackwood’sMagazine。WegotthemintheAmericaneditionsinpaymentforprintingthepublisher’sprospectus，andtheirarrivalwasanexcitement，ajoy，andasatisfactionwithme，whichIcouldnotnowdescribewithouthavingtoaccusemyselfofexaggeration。Theloveofliterature，andthehopeofdoingsomethinginit，hadbecomemylifetotheexclusionofallotherinterests，oritwasatleastthegreatreality，andallotherthingswereasshadows。Iwaslivinginatimeofhighpoliticaltumult，andIcertainlycaredverymuchforthequestionofslaverywhichwasthenfillingthemindsofmen;IfeltdeeplytheshameandwrongofourFugitiveSlaveLaw;IwasstirredbythenewsfromKansas，wherethegreatstrugglebetweenthetwogreatprinciplesinournationalitywasbeginninginbloodshed;butIcannotpretendthatanyofthesethingsweremorethanripplesonthesurfaceofmyintenseandprofoundinterestinliterature。IfIwasnottolivebyit，Iwassomehowtoliveforit。
　　IfIthoughtoftakingupsomeothercallingitwasasameansonly;
　　literaturewasalwaystheendIhadinview，immediatelyorfinally。
　　Ididnotseehowitwastoyieldmealiving，forIknewthatalmostalltheliterarymeninthecountryhadotherprofessions;theywereeditors，lawyers，orhadpublicorprivateemployments;ortheyweremenofwealth;therewasthennotonewhoearnedhisbreadsolelybyhispeninfiction，ordrama，orhistory，orpoetry，orcriticism，inadaywhenpeoplewantedverymuchlessbutterontheirbreadthantheydonow。
　　ButIkeptblindlyatmystudies，andyetnotaltogetherblindly，for，asIhavesaid，thereadingIdidhadmoretendencythanbefore，andI
　　wasbeginningtoseeauthorsintheirproportiontooneanother，andtothebodyofliterature。
　　TheEnglishreviewswereofgreatusetomeinthis;Imadearuleofreadingeachoneofthemquitethrough。TobesureIoftenbrokethisrule，aspeopleareapttodowithrulesofthekind;itwasnotpossibleforaboytowadethroughheavyarticlesrelatingtoEnglishpoliticsandeconomics，butIdonotthinkIleftanypaperuponaliterarytopicunread，andIdidreadenoughpolitics，especiallyinBlackwood’s，tobeofToryopinions;theywereveryfitopinionsforaboy，andtheydidnotexactofmeanychangeinregardtotheslaveryquestion。
　　XIX。ANON—LITERARYEPISODE
　　IsupposeImightalmostclassmydevotiontoEnglishreviewsamongmyliterarypassions，butitwasofveryshortlease，notbeyondayearortwoatthemost。InthemidstofitImademyfirstandonlyessayasidefromthelinesofliterature，orratherwhollyapartfromit。Aftersometalkwithmyfatheritwasdecided，mainlybymyself，Isuspect，thatI
　　shouldleavetheprinting—officeandstudylaw;anditwasarrangedwiththeUnitedStatesSenatorwholivedinourvillage，andwhowasathomefromWashingtonforthesummer，thatIwastocomeintohisoffice。TheSenatorwasbynomeanstoundertakemyinstructionhimself;hisnephew，whohadjustbeguntoreadlaw，wastobemyfellow—student，andweweretokeepeachotheruptothework，andtorecitetoeachother，untilwethoughtwehadenoughlawtogobeforeaboardofattorneysandtestourfitnessforadmissiontothebar。
　　Thiswasthecustominthatdayandplace，asIsupposeitisstillinmostpartsofthecountry。Weweretobefittedforpracticeinthecourts，notonlybyourreading，butbyaseasonofpettifoggingbeforejusticesofthepeace，whichIlookedforwardtowithnosmallshrinkingofmyshyspirit;butwhatreallytroubledmemost，andwasalwaysthegrainofsandbetweenmyteeth，wasBlackstone’sconfessionofhisownoriginalpreferenceforliterature，andhisperceptionthatthelawwas"ajealousmistress，"whowouldsuffernorivalinhisaffections。
　　IagreedwithhimthatIcouldnotgothroughlifewithadividedinterest;ImustgiveupliteratureorImustgiveuplaw。Inotonlyconsentedtothislogically，butIrealizeditinmyattempttocarryonthereadingIhadloved，andtokeepattheeffortsIwasalwaysmakingtowritesomethinginverseorprose，atnight，afterstudyinglawallday。ThestrainwasgreatenoughwhenIhadmerelytheworkintheprinting—office;butnowIcamehomefrommyBlackstonementallyfagged，andIcouldnottakeuptheauthorswhomatthebottomofmyheartI
　　lovedsomuchbetter。Itrieditamonth，butalmostfromthefataldaywhenIfoundthatconfessionofBlackstone’s，mywholebeingturnedfromthe"jealousmistress"tothehighmindedmuses：Ihadnotonlytogobacktoliterature，butIhadalsotogobacktotheprinting—office。
　　Ididnotregretit，butIhadmademychangeoffrontinthepubliceye，andIfeltthatitputmeatacertaindisadvantagewithmyfellow—
　　citizens;asfortheSenator，whoseofficeIhadforsaken，Imethimnowandtheninthestreet，withouttryingtodetainhim，andoncewhenhecametotheprinting—officeforhispaperweencounteredatapointwherewecouldnothelpspeaking。Helookedmeoverinmygeneraleffectofbasemechanical，andaskedmeifIhadgivenupthelaw;IhadonlytoanswerhimIhad，andourconferenceended。Itwasaterriblemomentforme，becauseIknewthatinhisopinionIhadchosenapathinlife，whichifitdidnotleadtothePoorHousewasatleastnowaytotheWhiteHouse。IsupposenowthathethoughtIhadmerelygonebacktomytrade，andsoforthetimeIhad;butIhavenoreasontosupposethathejudgedmycasenarrow—mindedly，andIoughttohavehadthecouragetohavetheaffairoutwithhim，andtellhimjustwhyIhadleftthelaw;wehadsometimestalkedtheEnglishreviewsover，forhereadthemaswellasI，anditoughtnottohavebeenimpossibleformetobefrankwithhim;
　　butasyetIcouldnottrustanyonewithmysecrethopeofsomedaylivingforliterature，althoughIhadalreadylivedfornothingelse。
　　IpreferredthedisadvantagewhichImustbeatinhiseyes，andintheeyesofmostofmyfellow—citizens;IbelieveIhadtheapplauseoftheorgan—builder，whothoughtthelawnocallingforme。
　　Inthatvillagetherewasasocialequalitywhich，ifnotabsolute，wasasnearlysoascaneverbeinacompetitivecivilization;andIcouldhavesufferednoslightinthegeneralesteemforgivingupaprofessionandgoingbacktoatrade;ifIwasdespisedatallitwasbecauseIhadthrownawaythechanceofmaterialadvancement;IdaresaysomepeoplethoughtIwasafooltodothat。Noone，indeed，couldhaveimaginedtheraptureitwastodoit，orwhataloadrolledfrommyshoulderswhenI
　　droppedthelawfromthem。PerhapsSinbadorChristiancouldhaveconceivedofmyecstaticrelief;yetsofarasthepopularvisionreachedIwasnotreturningtoliterature，buttotheprintingbusiness，andI
　　myselffeltthedifference。Myreadinghadgivenmecriterionsdifferentfromthoseofthesimplelifeofourvillage，andIdidnotflattermyselfthatmycallingwouldhavebeenthoughtoneofgreatsocialdignityintheworldwhereIhopedsomedaytomakemyliving。
　　Myconvictionswerealldemocratic，butatheartIamafraidIwasasnob，andwasunworthyofthehonestworkwhichIoughttohavefeltitanhonortodo;this，whateverwefalselypretendtothecontrary，istheframeofeveryonewhoaspiresbeyondtheworkofhishands。Idonotknowhowithadbecomemine，exceptthroughmyreading，andIthinkitwasthroughthedevotionIthenhadforacertainauthorthatIcametoaknowledgenotofgoodandevilsomuchasofcommonandsuperfine。
　　XX。THACKERAY
　　Itwasoftheorgan—builderthatIhadThackeray’sbooksfirst。Heknewtheirliteraryquality，andtheirrankintheliterary，world;butI
　　believehewassurprisedatthepassionIinstantlyconceivedforthem。
　　Hecouldnotunderstandit;hedeploreditalmostasamoraldefectinme;thoughhehonoreditasaproofofmycriticaltaste。Inacertainmeasurehewasright。
　　WhatflatterstheworldlyprideinayoungmaniswhatfascinateshimwithThackeray。Withhisairoflookingdownonthehighest，andconfidentiallyinvitingyoutobeofhiscompanyintheseatofthescornerheisirresistible;hisveryconfessionthatheisasnob，too，isbalmandsolacetothereaderwhosecretlyadmiresthesplendorsheaffectstodespise。Hissentimentalityisalsodeartotheheartofyouth，andtheboywhoisdazzledbyhissatireismeltedbyhiseasypathos。Then，iftheboyhasreadagoodmanyotherbooks，heistakenwiththatabundanceofliteraryturnandallusioninThackeray;thereishardlyasentencebutremindshimthatheisinthesocietyofagreatliteraryswell，whohasreadeverything，andcanmockorburlesqueliferightandleftfromtheliteraturealwaysathiscommand。Atthesametimehefeelshismastery，andisabjectlygratefultohiminhisownsimpleloveofthegoodforhispatronageoftheunassumingvirtues。
　　Itissopleasingtoone’s’vanity，andsosafe，tobeofthemaster’ssidewhenheassailsthosevicesandfoibleswhichareinherentinthesystemofthings，andwhichonecancontemnwithvastapplausesolongasonedoesnotattempttoundotheconditionstheyspringfrom。
　　IexultedtohaveThackerayattackthearistocrats，andexposetheirwickedprideandmeanness，andInevernoticedthathedidnotproposetodoawaywitharistocracy，whichisandmustalwaysbejustwhatithasbeen，andwhichcannotbechangedwhileitexistsatall。Heappearedtomeoneofthenoblestcreaturesthateverwaswhenhederidedtheshamsofsociety;andIwasfarfromseeingthatsociety，aswehaveit，wasnecessarilyasham;whenhemadeamockofsnobbishnessIdidnotknowbutsnobbishnesswassomethingthatmightbereachedandcuredbyridicule。NowIknowthatsolongaswehavesocialinequalityweshallhavesnobs;weshallhavemenwhobullyandtruckle，andwomenwhosnubandcrawl。Iknowthatitisfutileto，spurnthem，orlashthemfortryingtogetonintheworld，andthattheworldiswhatitmustbefromtheselfishmotiveswhichunderlieoureconomiclife。ButIdidnotknowthesethingsthen，norforlongafterwards，andsoIgavemyhearttoThackeray，whoseemedtopromisemeinhiscontemptoftheworldarefugefromtheshameIfeltformyownwantoffigureinit。Hehadtheeffectoftakingmeintothegreatworld，andmakingmeapartytohissplendidindifferencetotitles，andeventoroyalties;andIcouldnotseethatshamforshamhewasunwittinglythegreatestshamofall。
　　Ithinkitwas’Pendennis’Ibeganwith，andIlivedinthebooktotheverylastlineofit，andmadeitsaliencircumstanceminetothesmallestdetail。Iamstillnotsurebutitistheauthor’sgreatestbook，andIspeakfromathoroughacquaintancewitheverylinehehaswritten，excepttheVirginians，whichIhaveneverbeenabletoreadquitethrough;mostofhisworkIhavereadtwice，andsomeofittwentytimes。
　　Afterreading’Pendennis’Iwentto’VanityFair，’whichInowthinkthepoorestofThackeray’snovels——crude，heavy—handed，caricatured。AboutthesametimeIrevelledintheromanticismof’HenryEsmond，’withitspseudo—eighteenth—centurysentiment，anditsappealstoanoverwroughtidealofgentlemanhoodandhonor。ItwaslongbeforeIwasdulyrevoltedbyEsmond’stransferofhispassionfromthedaughtertothemotherwhomheissuccessivelyenamouredof。Ibelievethisunpleasantandpreposterousaffairisthoughtoneofthefinethingsinthestory;IdonotmindowningthatIthoughtitsomyselfwhenIwasseventeen;andifIcouldhavefoundaBeatrixtobeinlovewith，andaLadyCastlewoodtobeinlovewithme，Ishouldhaveaskednothingfineroffortune。
　　TheglamourofHenryEsmondwasallthedeeperbecauseIwasreadingthe’Spectator’then，andwasconstantlyinthecompanyofAddison，andSteele，andSwift，andPope，andallthewitsatWill’s，whoarepresentedevanescentlyintheromance。Theintenselyliterarykeeping，aswellasquality，ofthestoryIsupposeiswhatformeditshighestfascinationforme;butthateffectofgreatworldwhichitimpartstothereader，makinghimcitizen，and，ifhewill，leadingcitizenofit，waswhathelpedturnmyhead。
　　ThisisthetoxicpropertyofallThackeray’swriting。Heishimselfforeverdominatedinimaginationbytheworld，andevenwhilehetellsyouitisnotworthwhilehemakesyoufeelthatitisworthwhile。Itisnotthehonestman，butthemanofhonor，whoshinesinhispage;hismeekfolkareproudlymeek，andthereisatouchofsuperiority，aglintofmundanesplendor，inhislowliest。Herailsattheorderofthings，butheimaginesnothingdifferent，evenwhenheshowsthatitsbaseness，andcruelty，andhypocrisyarewell—nighinevitable，and，formostofthosewhowishtogetoninit，quiteinevitable。Hehasagoodwordforthevirtues，hepatronizestheChristiangraces，hepatshumblemeritonthehead;hehasevenexplosionsofindignationagainsttheinsolenceandprideofbirth，andpurse—pride。But，afterall，heisoftheworld，worldly，andthehighesthopeheholdsoutisthatyoumaybeintheworldanddespiseitsambitionswhileyoucompassitsends。
　　Ishouldbefarfromblaminghimforallthis。Hewasofhistime;butsincehistimemenhavethoughtbeyondhim，andseenlifewithavisionwhichmakeshisseemratherpurblind。Hemusthavebeenimmenselyinadvanceofmostofthethinkingandfeelingofhisday，forpeoplethenusedtoaccusehissentimentalpessimismofcynicalqualitieswhichwecouldhardlyfindinitnow。Itwastheageofintenseindividualism，whenyouweretodorightbecauseitwasbecomingtoyou，say，asagentleman，andyouweretohaveaneyesingletotheeffectuponyourcharacter，ifnotyourreputation;youwerenottodoameanthingbecauseitwaswrong，butbecauseitwasmean。Itwasromanticismcarriedintotheregionofmorals。ButIhadverylittleconcernthenastothatsortoferror。