The Express.
London, England, 1853-06-14 00:00:00

dollars a year, hut if he lived at the rate of fifteen thou-
sand, he would twaty die rich. Mr. Jeribm, • gentleman
who, in his autobiography, advises energetic youth te be-
take themselves to the highway rather than to literature.
was, we understand, 1: the receipt of an ea.y income, and
was a welcome aura in pleasant hawks ; but living in
• careless, shiftless, r aaaaaa gent way, he was presently
poor, and, instead of giving his memoirs the motto, record,
and inditing a warning, he dashes oil • truculent defiance.
Publishers and practical men of all kinds invest their earn-
ings in Michigan Central, cr Cincinnati and Dayton; in
steady works, and devoted days, and reap • pleasant harvest
of dividends. Our friends, the authors, invest in prime
Ilavannahs, Rhenish, in oyster suppers, love, and leisure ;
and divide a heavy per tentage of headnelte, dyspepsia, and
debt.

This is as true a view, from another point, as the one we
have already taken. If the literary life hu the pleasures of
freedom, it hes also its pains. It may willingly resign the
Queen's drawing-room with the illustrious gaiety of stars
sad halters, fur the chamber with a party nobler thee no-
bility. The author's success is of a wholly different kind
fremathat of the publisher, and he is thoughtless who de-
mands both. Mr. Roe, who sells sugar, naturally com-
plains that Mr. Doe, who sells molasses, makes money more
rapidly. But Mr. Tennyson, who writes poems, can hardly
make the same complaint of Mr. Moron who publishes
them, as was very fairly shown in a late number of the
Westminster Review, when noticing Mr. Jerden's book.
What we have said is strictly related to Mr. Thackeray's
Matures, which discussed literary life. All the men he
ennememorated were illustratioes and exponents of the
411Nreer of letters. They all, in various ways, showed the
various phenomena of that temperament. And when, in
treating them, the critic came to Steele, be found one who
wee the most striking illustration of one of the most unl-
ined upsets of literary life; the simple hearted ensue-
}ldeas, gay, gallant, and genial gentleman, ready with his
sword or his pen, with a smile or • tear, the hie represen-
tative of the social tendency of his life. It seems to us that
the Thackeray theory, the eseclusien that he is a man who
loves to depict badness and has ma sensibilities to the finer
qualities of character, crumbled wake away before that
lecture upon Steele. We know that it was not considered
the best. We know that many of the delighted audience
were not sufficiently familiar with literary history fully to
understand the position of the man in the lecturer's re-
view ; but, as a key to Thackeray, it was perhaps the most
valuable of all. We know, in literature, of no more
Rustle treatment. We have aot often encountered in men
of the most rigorous end seknowleged virtue such
bums' tenderness. We have not often heard
hem the most clerical lips words of such
genuine Christianity. Steele's was • character
which makes weakness amiable. It was weakness, if you
will, but it was as certainly amiability. And it was a
combination more attractive than many full-panoplied 'e-
minencies. It was not presented as a model. Captain Steel*
in the tap-room was not painted as the ideal of virtuous
manhood. But it certainly was intimated that many admi-
rable things were consonant with a free use of beer. It
was frankly stated that it, in that career, virtue abounded,
cakes and ale did much more abound. Captain Richard
Steele might have behaved much better than he did—but
we should then have never heard of him. A few fine essays
do not float a man into immortality. But the generous
character, the heart sweet in all excesses and under all
chances, is a spectacle too beautiful and too rare to be easily
forgotten. A men is better than many books.
We conceive this to be the chief result of Thackeray's
visit, that he convinced as of his intellectual integrity ; he
showed us how impossit.le it is for him to see the woild and
describe it other than he does. He does not profess cynicism,
nor satirise society with malice. There is no man more
humble, none more simple. His interests are human and
concrete, not abstract. We have already said that he looks
through and through at the fact. It is easy enough, and at
some future time it will be done in these pages, to deduce
the peculiarity of his writings from the character of his
mind. There is no man who masks so little as he, in as-
suming the author. His books are his observation reduced
to writing. It seems to us as singular to demand that
Dante should be like Shakspeare, as to quarrel with
Thackeray's want of what is called ideal portraiture.
Even if you thought, from reading his " Vanity Fair,"
that he had no conception of noble women, certainly, after
the lecture noon Swift, after all the lectures, in which
every allusion to women was so many, and delicate, and
sympathetic, you thought so no longer. It is clear that his
sympathy is attracted to women by that which is essentially
feminine. Qualities common to both sexes do not necessa-
rily charm him because he finds them in women. A
eertain degree of goodness must be always as-
sumed. It is only the rare flowering that
inspires especial praise. You call Amelia's fond-
ness for George Osborne foolish, fond idolatry.
Thackeray smiles as if all love were not idolatry
of the fondest foolishness. What was Hero's? what
was Francesca di Rimini's ? what was Juliet's? They
might have been more brilliant women than Amelia, and
Meer idols of a larger mould than George, but the love was
the same old, foolish, fund idolatry. The passion of love,
and a profound and sensible regard based upon prodigious
knowledge of character and appreciation of Went, are dif-
ferent things What is the historical and poetic splendour
a love, but the very fact which constantly appears in
Thackeray's stories—namely, that it is • glory which
dazzles and blinds? Men ranly love the women they
ought to love, according to the ideal standards. It is this
that makes the plot and mystery of life. Is it not the
ripensl surprise of all Jane's friends that she should love
T. instead of Thomas? And is not the courtly and
T-omas sure to surrender to some accidental
Lmay, whheut position, wealth, style,wit, culture—without
anything but heart ? This is the fact, end it reappears in
Thaekeray ; and it gives his books that air of reality which
beyond all modern story.
*Z I' itis this single perception of the fact, which, simple
es It is, is the rarest intellectual quality that made his lec-
tures so interesting. The sun arose again upon that va-
nished century, and lighted those historic streets. The wits
of Queen Anne ruled the hour, and we were bidden to
their feat. Much reading of history and memoirs had not so
sent the blood into those old English cheeks, and se moved
those limbs in proper measure, as these swift glances
through the eyes of genius. It was because, true to him-
self, Thackeray gave us his impressions of those wits as men,
rather thati authors. For he loves character more than
thought. He is a man of the world and not a scholar. He
interprets the author by the man. When you are made in-
timate with young Swift, Sir William Temple's saturnine
secretary, you more intelligently appreciate the Dean of St.
Patrick's. When the surplice of Mr. Sterne is raised a little,
more is sees than the reverend gentleman intends. Ho-
earth, the bluff Londoner, necessarily depicts a bluff, eoar,e,
obvious morality. The hearty Fielding, the cool Addicoo,
the genial Goldsmith,—these are the figures that remain in
memory, and their works are as valuable as they indicate
the man.

Mr. Thackstay's sueeew was very great. He did not
visit the West, nor Canada. He went home without
seeing Niagara Falls. But whemer he did go, be found
a generous social welcome, and a respectfal sad sympa-
thetic hearing. He cam to fulfil no mission : but he cer-
tainly knit more closely our sympathy with Englishmen.
Heralded by various romantic memoirs, he smiled at them,
' stoutly asserted that he had been always able to command
a good dinner, and to pay for it ; nor did he seek to die-
ruse that he hoped his American tour would help him to
command and pay for more. He promised not to write a
book about as, but we hope he will, fee we can ill spare
the criticism of such an observer. At least, we may
be sure that the material gathered here will be worked up
in some way. Ile found that we were not savages nor bows.
He found that there were a hundred here for every score in
Ragland, who knew well, and loved, the men of whom he
spoke. He found that the same red blood colours all the
lips that speak the language he so nobly praised. Hs found
friends instead of critics. He found those who, loving the
author, love the man more. He found a quiet welcome
from those who are waiting to welcome him again, and as
sincerely.