Iwasonaveryhighesthetichorse，whichIcouldnothaveconvenientlystoopedfromifIhadwished;itwasquiteenoughformethatThackeray’snovelswereprodigiousworksofart，andIacquiredmerit，atleastwithmyself，forappreciatingthemsokeenly，forlikingthemsomuch。Itmustbe，Ifeltwithfarlessconsciousnessthanmyformulationofthefeelingexpresses，thatIwasofsomefinersortmyselftobeabletoenjoysuchafinesort。NodoubtIshouldhavebeenacoxcombofsomekind，ifnotthatkind，andIshallnotbeverystrenuousincensuringThackerayforhiseffectuponmeinthisway。Nodoubttheeffectwasalreadyinme，andhedidnotsomuchproduceitasfindit。
Inthemeantimehewasavastdelighttome，asmuchinthevarietyofhisminorworks——his’Yellowplush，’and’LettersofMr。Brown，’and’AdventuresofMajorGahagan，’andthe’ParisSketchBook，’andthe’IrishSketchBook，’andthe’GreatHoggartyDiamond，’andthe’BookofSnobs，’andthe’EnglishHumorists，’andthe’FourGeorges，’andallthemultitudeofhisessays，andverses，andcaricatures——asinthespaciousdesignsofhishugenovels，the’Newcomes，’and’Pendennis，’and’VanityFair，’and’HenryEsmond，’and’BarryLyndon。’
Therewassomethingintheartofthelastwhichseemedtomethen，andstillseems，thefarthestreachoftheauthor’sgreattalent。Itiscouched，likesomuchofhiswork，intheautobiographicform，whichnexttothedramaticformisthemostnatural，andwhichlendsitselfwithsuchflexibilitytothepurposeoftheauthor。In’BarryLyndon’thereisimaginedtothelifeascoundrelofsuchrarequalitythatheneversupposesforamomentbutheisthefinestsortofagentleman;andso，infact，hewas，asmostgentlemenwentinhisday。Ofcourse，thepictureisover—colored;itwastheviceofThackeray，orofThackeray’stime，tosurchargeallimitationsoflifeandcharacter，sothatagenerationapparentlymuchslower，ifnotdullerthanours，shouldnotpossiblymisstheartist’smeaning。ButIdonotthinkitissomuchsurchargedas’Esmond;’’BarryLyndon’isbynomannerofmeanssoconsciousasthatmirrorofgentlemanhood，withitsmanifoldself—
reverberations;andforthesereasonsIaminclinedtothinkheisthemostperfectcreationofThackeray’smind。
IdidnotmaketheacquaintanceofThackeray’sbooksallatonce，oreveninrapidsuccession，andheatnotimepossessedthewholeempireofmycatholic，nottosay，fickle，affections，duringtheyearsIwascompassingafullknowledgeandsenseofhisgreatness，andburningincenseathisshrine。ButtherewasamomentwhenhesooutshoneandovertoppedallotherdivinitiesinmyworshipthatIwaseffectivelyhisalone，asIhavebeenthehelplessand，asitwere，hypnotizeddevoteeofthreeorfourothersoftheverygreat。Fromhisartthereflowedintomealiteraryqualitywhichtingedmywholementalsubstance，andmadeitimpossibleformetosay，orwishtosay，anythingwithoutgivingittheliterarycolor。Thatis，whilehedominatedmyloveandfancy，ifIhadbeensofortunateastohaveasimpleconceptofanythinginlife，Imusthavetriedtogivetheexpressionofitsometurnortintthatwouldremindthereaderofbooksevenbeforeitremindedhimofmen。