ce to any praise of his
performances on the merely literary side, compared with the higher
recognition of them as bits of actual life, with the meaning and purpose
on their part, and the responsibility on his, of realities rather than
creatures of fancy. The exception that might be drawn from _Pickwick_ is
rather in seeming than substance. A first book has its immunities, and
the distinction of this from the rest of the writings appears in what
has been said of its origin. The plan of it was simply to amuse. It was
to string together whimsical sketches of the pencil by entertaining
sketches of the pen; and, at its beginning, where or how it was to end
was as little known to himself as to any of its readers. But genius is a
master as well as a servant, and when the laughter and fun were at their
highest something graver made its appearance. He had to defend himself
for this; and he said that, though the mere oddity of a new acquaintance
was apt to impress one at first, the more serious qualities were
discovered when we became friends with the man. In other words he might
have said that the change was become necessary for his own
satisfaction. The book itself, in teaching him what his power was, had
made him more conscious of what would be expected from its use; and this
never afterwards quitted him. In what he was to do hereafter, as in all
he was doing now, with _Pickwick_ still to finish and _Oliver_ only
beginning, it constantly attended him. Nor could it well be otherwise,
with all those fanciful creations so real, to a nature in itself so
practical and earnest; and in this spirit I had well understood the
letter accompanying what had been published of _Oliver_ since its
commencement the preceding February, which reached me the day after I
visited him. Something to the effect of what has just been said, I had
remarked publicly of the portion of the story sent to me; and his
instant warm-hearted acknowledgment, of which I permit myself to quote a
line or two, showed me in what perfect agreement we were: "How can I
thank you? Can I do better than by saying that the sense of poor
Oliver's reality, which I know you have had from the first, has been the
highest of all praise to me? None that has been lavished upon me have I
felt half so much as that appreciation of my intent and meaning. You
know I have ever done so, for it was your feeling for me and mine for
you that first brought us together, and I hope will keep us so t