had only few and as it were accidental
specimens. It is hoped that, notwithstanding the great changes of taste
recently as to reticence or indiscretion, there are still many people
who can not only understand but thoroughly sympathise with Thackeray's
disgust at the idea of having his "Life" written; and the even greater
reluctance which he would certainly have felt at that of having his
letters published. But, as has been suggested on a former occasion, when
things _are_ published there is nothing disgraceful in reading them: and
it may be frankly admitted that lovers of English literature would have
missed much pleasure and the opportunity of much admiration if the
"Brookfield" letters, those to the Baxter family and others in America,
those finally included in the "Biographical" edition, and yet others
which have turned up sporadically had remained unknown. It may be
doubted whether there is anything like them in our literature--if indeed
there is in any other--for the double, treble or even more complicated
gift of view into character, matter of interest, positive literary
satisfaction, and (perhaps most remarkable of all) resemblance to and
explanation of the author's "regular literature," as it has been called.
In some respects they resemble the letters of Keats; but there is absent
from them the immaturity which was noted in those, and which extended to
both matter and style. They are more various in subject and tone than
Shelley's. They are not deliberately quaint like Lamb's; and they
naturally lack (whether this is wholly an advantage or not, may admit,
though not here, of dispute) the restraint[35] which, in greater or less
degree and in varied kind, characterizes the great eighteenth century
epistolers.

[Sidenote: THACKERAY]

One additional charm which many of them possess may be regarded by
extreme precisians as of doubtful legitimacy as far as comment here is
concerned: but this may be ruled out as a superfluous scruple. It is the
illumination of the text "by the author's own candles" as he himself
says in a well-known Introduction: the actual "illustration" by
insertion in the script, of little pen-drawings. The shortcomings of
Thackeray's draughtsmanship have always been admitted: and by nobody
more frankly than by himself. But they hardly affect this sort of
"picturing" at all. The unfortunate inability to depict a pretty face
which he deplored need do no harm whatever: and his lack of
"composition"