'I have already told you, I believe, that I regard Mr. Thackeray as
the first of modern masters, and as the legitimate high priest of
Truth; I study him accordingly with reverence. He, I see, keeps the
mermaid's tail below water, and only hints at the dead men's bones
and noxious slime amidst which it wriggles; _but_, his hint is more
vivid than other men's elaborate explanations, and never is his
satire whetted to so keen an edge as when with quiet mocking irony he
modestly recommends to the approbation of the public his own
exemplary discretion and forbearance. The world begins to know
Thackeray rather better than it did two years or even a year ago, but
as yet it only half knows him. His mind seems to me a fabric as
simple and unpretending as it is deep-founded and enduring--there is
no meretricious ornament to attract or fix a superficial glance; his
great distinction of the genuine is one that can only be fully
appreciated with time. There is something, a sort of "still
profound," revealed in the concluding part of _Vanity Fair_ which the
discernment of one generation will not suffice to fathom. A hundred
years hence, if he only lives to do justice to himself, he will be
better known than he is now. A hundred years hence, some thoughtful
critic, standing and looking down on the deep waters, will see
shining through them the pearl without price of a purely original
mind--such a mind as the Bulwers, etc.
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