Thackeray, Sir John Herschel, Mr. Fonblanque, Leigh Hunt, and
Mr. Lewes--that my humble efforts should have had such a result is a
noble reward.
'I was glad and proud to get the bank bill Mr. Smith sent me
yesterday, but I hardly ever felt delight equal to that which cheered
me when I received your letter containing an extract from a note by
Mr. Thackeray, in which he expressed himself gratified with the
perusal of _Jane Eyre_. Mr. Thackeray is a keen ruthless satirist.
I had never perused his writings but with blended feelings of
admiration and indignation. Critics, it appears to me, do not know
what an intellectual boa-constrictor he is. They call him
"humorous," "brilliant"--his is a most scalping humour, a most deadly
brilliancy: he does not play with his prey, he coils round it and
crushes it in his rings. He seems terribly in earnest in his war
against the falsehood and follies of "the world." I often wonder
what that "world" thinks of him. I should think the faults of such a
man would be distrust of anything good in human nature--galling
suspicion of bad motives lurking behind good actions. Are these his
failings?
'They are, at any rate, the failings of his written sentiments, for
he cannot find in his heart to represent either man or woman as at
once good and wise.
Pages:
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621