It can not justly be said of these earlier and minor writings that, taken as a whole, they reveal a cynic.  They contain many thrusts at the foolishness and knavery of society, especially that genteel portion of it with which the writer, by birth, education and experience, was familiar.  When Thackeray, in the thirties, turned to newspaper writing, he did so for practical reasons:  he needed money, and he used such talents as were his as a writer, knowing that the chances were better than in art, which he had before pursued.  It was natural that he should have turned to account his social experiences, which gave him a power not possessed by the run of literary hacks, and which had been to some extent disillusioning, but had by no means soured him.  Broadly viewed, the tone of these first writings was genial, the light and shade of human nature—­in its average, as it is seen in the world—­was properly represented.  In fact, often, as in “The Great Hoggarty Diamond,” the style is almost that of burlesque, at moments, of horse-play:  and there are too touches of beautiful young-man pathos.  Such a work is anything rather than tart or worldly.  There are scenes in that enjoyable story that read more like Dickens than the Thackeray of “Vanity Fair.”  The same remark applies, though in a different way, to the “Yellowplush Papers.”  An early work like “Barry Lyndon,” unique among the productions of the young writer, expresses the deeper aspect of his tendency to depict the unpleasant with satiric force, to make clear-cut pictures of rascals, male and female.  Yet in this historical study, the eighteenth century setting relieves the effect and one does not feel that the author is speaking with that direct earnestness one encounters in “Pendennis” and “The Newcomes.”  The many essays, of which the “Roundabout Papers” are a type, exhibit almost exclusively the sunnier and more attractive side of Thackeray’s genius.  Here and there, in the minor fiction of this experimental period, there are premonitions of he more drastic treatment of later years:  but the dominant mood is quite other.  One who read the essays alone, with no knowledge of the fiction, would be astonished at a charge of cynicism brought against the author.

And so we come to the major fiction:  “Vanity Fair,” “Pendennis,” “The Newcomes,” and “Esmond.”  Of “The Adventures of Philip” a later word may be said.  “The Virginians” is a comparatively unimportant pendant to that great historical picture, “Henry Esmond.”  The quartet practically composes the fundamental contribution of Thackeray to the world of fiction, containing as it does all his characteristic traits.  Some of them have been pointed out, time out of mind:  others, often claimed, are either wanting or their virtue has been much exaggerated.