"The scared leaves only flew the faster for all this, and a giddy chase it was: for they got into unfrequented places, where there was no outlet, and where their pursuer kept them eddying round and round at his pleasure; and they crept under the eaves of houses, and clung tightly to the sides of hayricks, like bats; and tore in at open chamber windows, and cowered close to hedges; and, in short, went anywhere for safety."--"Martin Chuzzlewit," ch. II.] [Footnote 241: "The Chimes," first quarter.] [Footnote 242: "The Chimes," first quarter.] [Footnote 243: "Martin Chuzzlewit." ch. XLV.] [Footnote 244: "Dombey and Son," ch. IV.] [Footnote 245: See ante, vol. I. note, page 393.] [Footnote 246: "David Copperfield," ch. V.] [Footnote 247: "Martin Chuzzlewit," ch. XXXVI.] [Footnote 248: "Martin Chuzzlewit," ch. LI.] [Footnote 249: Novels of George Sand.] [Footnote 250: "Martin Chuzzlewit," ch. XXXVI.] [Footnote 251: "Hard Times," bk. 3, ch. VI.] [Footnote 252: Ibid.] [Footnote 253: "Martin Chuzzlewit," ch. VIII.] [Footnote 254: Ibid.] [Footnote 255: "Martin Chuzzlewit," ch. XIX.] [Footnote 256: "The Chimes," the first quarter.] [Footnote 257: A living French author, whose dramas are all said to have a moral purpose.--Tr.] [Footnote 258: "David Copperfield," ch. LXV; the scene between the doctor and his wife.] [Footnote 259: "Et je verrais mourir frère, enfants, mère, et femme Que je m'en soucierais autant que de cela." These lines, said by Orgon to his brother-in-law Cléante, are from Molière's "Tartuffe," I. 6.] [Footnote 260: "Martin Chuzzlewit," ch. II.] [Footnote 261: "Martin Chuzzlewit," ch. VIII.] [Footnote 262: "Hard Times," book I. ch. I.] [Footnote 263: Ibid, book I. ch. II.] [Illustration: Page from the Letters of St. Jerome. Fac-simile example of Printing and Engraving in the Fifteenth Century.] CHAPTER SECOND THE NOVEL CONTINUED--THACKERAY Comparison Between Dickens and Thackeray The novel of manners in England multiplies, and for this there are several reasons: first, it is born there, and every plant thrives well in its own soil; secondly, it is a natural outlet: there is no music in England as in Germany, or conversation as in France; and men who must think and feel find in it a means of feeling and thinking. On the other hand, women take part in it with eagerness; amidst the stagnation of gallantry and the coldness of religion, it gives scope for imagination and dreams. Finally, by its minute details and practical counsels, it opens up a career to the precise and moral mind. The critic thus is, as it were, swamped in this copiousness; he must select in order to grasp the whole, and confine himself to a few in order to embrace all.