hat great book. For
before I do so, I wish to pause a brief space to consider what manner
of man Charles Dickens was when he suddenly broke on the world in his
full popularity; and also what were the influences, for good and evil,
which his early career had exercised upon his character and intellect.

What manner of man he was? In outward aspect all accounts agree that
he was singularly, noticeably prepossessing--bright, animated, eager,
with energy and talent written in every line of his face. Such he was
when Forster saw him, on the occasion of their first meeting, when
Dickens was acting as spokesman for the insurgent reporters engaged on
the _Mirror_. So Carlyle, who met him at dinner shortly after this,
and was no flatterer, sketches him for us with a pen of unwonted
kindliness. "He is a fine little fellow--Boz, I think. Clear, blue,
intelligent eyes, eyebrows that he arches amazingly, large protrusive
rather loose mouth, a face of most extreme _mobility_, which he
shuttles about--eyebrows, eyes, mouth and all--in a very singular
manner while speaking. Surmount this with a loose coil of
common-coloured hair, and set it on a small compact figure, very
small, and dressed _a la_ D'Orsay rather than well--this is Pickwick.
For the rest, a quiet, shrewd-looking little fellow, who seems to
guess pretty well what he is and what others are."[7] Is not this a
graphic little picture, and characteristic even to the touch about
D'Orsay, the dandy French Count? For Dickens, like the young men of
the time--Disraeli, Bulwer, and the rest--was a great fop. We, of
these degenerate days, shall never see again that antique magnificence
in coloured velvet waistcoats.

But to return. Dickens, it need scarcely be said, had by this
[time][8] long out-lived the sickliness of his earlier years. The
hardships and trials of his childhood and boyhood had served but to
brace his young manhood, knitting the frame and strengthening the
nerves. Light and small, as Carlyle describes him, he was wiry and
very active, and could bear without injury an amount of intellectual
work and bodily fatigue that would have killed many men of seemingly
stronger build. And as what might have seemed unfortunate in his youth
had helped perchance to develop his physical powers, so had it
assisted to strengthen his character and foster his genius. I go back
here to the point from which I started. No doubt a weaker man would
have been crushed by such a youth. He wo