as a critic: and it has
been pointed out that, in consequence of his peculiar impulsiveness, his
strong likes and dislikes, his satiric-romantic temperament, and perhaps
certain deficiencies in all-round literary and historical learning, his
critical light was apt to be rather uncertain, and his critical deductions
by no means things from which there should be no appeal. But _The English
Humourists_ is by far the most important "place" for this criticism in the
literary department; and _The Four Georges_ (with _The Book of Snobs_ to
some extent supplementing it) is the chief place for his criticism of
society, personality, and the like. Moreover, both have been, and are,
violently attacked by those who do not like him. So that, for more reasons
than one or two, both works deserve faithful critical handling themselves.

It is always best to disperse Maleger and his myrmidons before exploring
the beauties of the House of Alma: so we may take the objections to the
_Humourists_ first. They are chiefly concerned with the handling of Swift
and (in a less degree) of Sterne. Now, it is quite certain that we have
here, in the first case at any rate, to confess, though by no means to
avoid. It is an instance of that excessive "taking sides" with or against
his characters which has been noticed, and will be noticed, again and
again. Nor is the reason of this in the least difficult to perceive. It is
very doubtful whether Thackeray's own estimate of average humanity was
much higher than Swift's: nor is it quite certain that the affection which
Swift professed and (from more than one instance) seems to have really
felt for Dick, Tom, and Harry, in particular, as opposed to mankind at
large, was very much less sincere than Thackeray's own for individuals.
But the temperament of the one deepened and aggravated his general
understanding of mankind into a furious misanthropy; while the temperament
of the other softened _his_ into a general pardon. In the same way,
Swift's very love and friendship were dangerous and harsh-faced, while
Thackeray's were sunny and caressing. But there can be very little doubt
that Thackeray himself, when the "Shadow of Vanity" was heaviest on him,
felt the danger of actual misanthropy, and thus revolted from its victim
with a kind of terror; while his nature could not help feeling a similar
revulsion from Swift's harsh ways. That to all this revulsion he gives
undue force of expression need not be denied: but