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There are plenty of intelligent persons sacramentally wedded to mere conventions of good and bad. You could never persuade them that Rebecca Sharp that most perfect daughter of Thackeray's mind was a heroine. But of course she was. In that world wherein she was cast to live she was indubitably, incomparably, the very best of all the inhabitants to whom you are intimately introduced. Capt. Dobbin?

The hero is "neither angel nor imp," in Thackeray's words, but the typical young man of society, whom he knows thoroughly, and whom he paints exactly as he is, a careless, good-natured but essentially selfish person, who goes through life intent on his own interests.

We gave some tobacco I think, and received a cat, two pounds of fresh butter, a Cumberland ham, WESTWARD HO! and Thackeray's ENGLISH HUMOURISTS. I was astonished at receiving two such fair books from the captain of a little coasting screw. Our honest, fat, old captain says this very grimly in his thick, broad voice.

Never was there such pounding since Thackeray's old Pierre, who, "just to keep up his drumming, one day drummed down the Bastile": At midnight I beat the tattoo, And woke up the Pikemen of Paris To follow the bold Barbaroux. On the waves of this drumming the people poured out from every gate of the garden, until the last loiterer passed and the gendarmes closed the portals for the night.

To have been blessed by Thackeray is a distinction The Boy would not exchange for any niche in the Temple of Literary Fame; no laurel crown he could ever receive would be able to obliterate, or to equal, the sense of Thackeray's touch; and if there be any virtue in the laying on of hands The Boy can only hope that a little of it has descended upon him.

In Shakespeare's Hamlet and Enobarbus, in Fielding's Squire Western, in Walter Scott's Edie Ochiltree and Meg Merrilies, in Balzac's Pere Goriot and Madame Marneff, in Thackeray's Colonel Newcome and Becky Sharp, in Turguenieff's Bazarof and Dimitri Roudine, we meet persons who exhaust for us the groups to which they severally belong.

Nay, never shague your gory locks at me, Dou canst not say I did it. quotes Pinto, the hero of Thackeray's Notch on the Axe. 'He pronounced it, by the way, I dit it, by which I know that Pinto was a German, says Thackeray. I make little doubt but that Saint-Germain, too, was a German, whether by the mother's side, and of princely blood, or quite the reverse.

He informed the rueful thinker that the young lady wanted to see him at once in Miss Thackeray's room. With a heavy heart he mounted the stairs. At the top he paused to deliberate. Would it not be better to keep her in ignorance? What was to be gained by revealing to her the But Miss Thackeray was luring him on to destruction. She stood outside the door and beckoned. That in itself was ominous.

We have often to regret that scientific eminence is not always accompanied by scientific logic. Where science neglects a subject, charlatans and dupes take it up. In England 'animal magnetism' had been abandoned to this class of enthusiasts, till Thackeray's friend, Dr. Elliotson, devoted himself to the topic.

"Two wood exteriors and a parlor set, make-up boxes, wardrobe trunks, a slide trombone and " mused Mr. Bacon, and would have gone on but for Barnes' interruption. He was covertly watching Miss Thackeray's half-averted face as he ventured upon the proposition he had decided to put before them.