ly suggested by Mrs. Brookfield, partly
by Thackeray's mother, much by his own wife. There scarce seems room for
so many elements in Emmy's personality. For some reason ladies love her
not, nor do men adore her. I have been her faithful knight ever since I
was ten years old and read "Vanity Fair" somewhat stealthily. Why does
one like her except because she is such a thorough woman? She is not
clever, she is not very beautiful, she is unhappy, and she can be
jealous. One pities her, and that is akin to a more tender sentiment;
one pities her while she sits in the corner, and Becky's green eyes
flatter her oaf of a husband; one pities her in the poverty of her
father's house, in the famous battle over Daffy's Elixir, in the
separation from the younger George. You begin to wish some great joy to
come to her: it does not come unalloyed; you know that Dobbin had bad
quarters of an hour with this lady, and had to disguise a little of his
tenderness for his own daughter. Yes, Emmy is more complex than she
seems, and perhaps it needed three ladies to contribute the various
elements of her person and her character. One of them, the jealous one,
lent a touch to Helen Pendennis, to Laura, to Lady Castlewood. Probably
this may be the reason why some persons dislike Thackeray so. His very
best women are not angels. {109} Are the very best women angels? It is
a pious opinion--that borders on heresy.

When the Letters began to be written, in 1847, Thackeray had his worst
years, in a worldly sense, behind him. They were past: the times when he
wrote in _Galignani_ for ten francs a day. Has any literary ghoul
disinterred his old ten-franc articles in _Galignani_? The time of
"Barry Lyndon," too, was over. He says nothing of that masterpiece, and
only a word about "The Great Hoggarty Diamond." "I have been re-reading
it. Upon my word and honour, if it doesn't make you cry, I shall have a
mean opinion of you. It was written at a time of great affliction, when
my heart was very soft and humble. Amen. Ich habe auch viel geliebt."
Of "Pendennis," as it goes on, he writes that it is "awfully stupid,"
which has not been the verdict of the ages. He picks up materials as he
passes. He dines with some officers, and perhaps he stations them at
Chatteris. He meets Miss G---, and her converse suggests a love passage
between Pen and Blanche. Why did he dislike fair women so? It runs all
through his novels. Becky is fair.