published in 1843; "The Chimes," 1844; "The Cricket on the Hearth," 1845; "The Battle of Life," 1846; and "The Haunted Man," 1847. "Some critics," it is said, "have supposed that the last one or two of these series showed evidences of a fatigued mind. This may be true; in which case, it was evidence of practical sense and self-knowledge to discontinue them."

In the peroration of the concluding lecture which Thackeray gave on "English Humorists of the Eighteenth Century," he paid an eloquent and touching tribute to the genius of Mr. Dickens, and said,—

"As for the charities of Mr. Dickens, multiplied kindnesses which he has conferred upon us all, — upon our children, upon people educated and uneducated, upon the myriads here and at home who speak our common tongue, have you not, have not I, all of us, reason to be thankful to this kind friend, who soothed and charmed so many hours, brought pleasure and sweet laughter to so many homes, made such multitudes of children happy, endowed us with such a sweet store of gracious thoughts, fair fancies, soft sympathies, hearty enjoyments? There are creations of Mr. Dickens's which seem to me to rank as personal benefits; figures so delightful, that one feels happier and better for knowing them, as one does for being brought into the society of very good men and women. The atmosphere in which these people live is wholesome to breathe in; you feel,

that to be allowed to speak to them is a personal kind ness; you come away better for your contact with them; your hands seem cleaner from having the privilege of shaking theirs. Was there ever a better charity-sermon preached in the world than Dickens's 'Christmas Carol'? I believe it occasioned immense hospitality throughout England; was the means of lighting up hundreds of kind fires at Christmas-time; caused a wonderful outpouring of Christmas good feeling, of Christmas punchbrewing; an awful slaughter of Christmas turkeys, and roasting and basting of Christmas beef."

Thackeray's private library was sold after his death; and a copy of "The Christmas Carol," presented him by the author, with a note, sold for twenty-five pounds. The following is the closing portion of the first "Christmas Carol:"

"Yes! and the bedpost was his own; the bed was his own; the room was his own; best and happiest of all, the time before him was his own, to make amends in. "I will live in the past, the present, and the future,' Scrooge repeated, as he scrambled out of bed. spirits of all three shall strive within me. O Jacob Marley! Heaven and the Christmas-time be praised for this! I say it on my knees, old Jacob, on my knees!'

'The

"He was so fluttered, and so glowing with his good

intentions, that his broken voice would scarcely answer to his call. He had been sobbing violently in his conflict with the spirit; and his face was wet with tears. "They are not torn down!' cried Scrooge, folding one of his bed-curtains in his arms, - they are not torn down, rings and all. They are here, — I am here. The shadows of the things that would have been may be dispelled. They will be: I know they will!'

6

"His hands were busy with his garments all this time, turning them inside out, putting them on upside down, tearing them, mislaying them, making them parties to every kind of extravagance.

"I don't know what to do!' cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath, and making a perfect Laocoön of himself with his stockings. 'I am as light as a feather; I am as happy as an angel; I am as merry as a school-boy; I am as giddy as a drunken man. A merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New-Year to all the world! Halloo, here! Whoop! Halloo !'

"He had frisked into the sitting-room, and was now standing there, perfectly winded.

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"There's the saucepan that the gruel was in !' cried Scrooge, starting off again, and going round the fireplace. There's the door by which the ghost of Jacob Marley entered! There's the corner where the ghost of Christmas Present sat! There's the window where I saw the wandering spirits! It's all right, it's all true, it all happened. Ha, ha, ha!'

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Really, for a man who had been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh,—the father of a long, long line of brilliant laughs.

"I don't know what day of the month it is,' said Scrooge; I don't know how long I have been among the spirits. I don't know any thing. I'm quite a baby. Never mind. I don't care. I'd rather be a baby. Halloo! Whoop! Halloo, here!'

"He was checked in his transports by the churches ringing out the lustiest peals he had ever heard. Clash, clang, hammer; ding, dong, bell. Bell, dong, ding; hammer, clang, clash! Oh, glorious, glorious!

"Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. No fog, no mist; clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold; cold, piping for the blood to dance to; golden sunlight; heavenly sky; sweet, fresh air; merry bells. Oh, glorious, glorious!

"What's to-day?' cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes, who, perhaps, had loitered in to look about him.

"EH?' returned the boy, with all his might of wonder.

"What's to-day, my fine fellow?' said Scrooge.

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To-day!' replied the boy. Why, CHRISTMAS DAY!' "It's Christmas Day!' said Scrooge to himself. I haven't missed it. The spirits have done it all in one night. They can do any thing they like. Of course, they can. Halloo, my fine fellow!'

"Halloo!' returned the boy.

"Do you know the poulterer's, in the next street but one, at the corner?' Scrooge inquired.

"I should hope I did,' replied the lad. "An intelligent boy!' said Scrooge,

a remarkable

boy! Do you know whether they've sold the prize-turkey that was hanging up there?-not the little prizeturkey, the big one?'

'It's a

"What, the one as big as me?' returned the boy. "What a delightful boy!' said Scrooge. pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my buck!' "It's hanging there now,' replied the boy. "Is it?' said Scrooge. Go and buy it.' "Walk-ER!' exclaimed the boy.

"No, no,' said Scrooge: I am in earnest. Go, and buy it, and tell 'em to bring it here, that I may give them the directions where to take it.

the man, and I'll give you a shilling. him in less than five minutes, and crown!'

Come back with

Come back with

I'll give half a

"The boy was off like a shot. He must have had a steady hand at a trigger who could have got a shot off half so fast.

"I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's,' whispered Scrooge, rubbing his hands, and splitting with a laugh. He sha'n't know who sends it. It's twice the size of Tiny Tim. Joe Miller never made such a joke as sending it to Bob's will be!'