PAGE I. TO W. M. THACKERAY 1 II. TO CHARLES DICKENS 10 III. TO PIERRE DE RONSARD 22 IV. TO HERODOTUS 34 V. EPISTLE TO MR. ALEXANDER POPE 46 VI. TO LUCIAN OF SAMOSATA 55 VII. TO MAÎTRE FRANÇOYS RABELAIS 66 VIII. TO JANE AUSTEN 75 IX. TO MASTER ISAAK WALTON 86 X. TO M. CHAPELAIN 98 XI. TO SIR JOHN MAUNDEVILLE, KT. 110 XII. TO ALEXANDRE DUMAS 119 XIII. TO THEOCRITUS 130 XIV. TO EDGAR ALLAN POE 140 XV. TO SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 152 XVI. TO EUSEBIUS OF CÆSAREA 162 XVII. TO PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY 173 XVIII. TO MONSIEUR DE MOLIÈRE, VALET DE CHAMBRE DU ROI 184 XIX. TO ROBERT BURNS 195 XX. TO LORD BYRON 205 XXI. TO OMAR KHAYYÂM 216 XXII. TO Q. HORATIUS FLACCUS 223 I. _To W. M. Thackeray_. SIR,—There are many things that stand in the way of the critic when he has a mind to praise the living. He may dread the charge of writing rather to vex a rival than to exalt the subject of his applause. He shuns the appearance of seeking the favour of the famous, and would not willingly be regarded as one of the many parasites who now advertise each movement and action of contemporary genius. “Such and such men of letters are passing their summer holidays in the Val d’Aosta,” or the Mountains of the Moon, or the Suliman Range, as it may happen. So reports our literary “Court Circular,” and all our _Précieuses_ read the tidings with enthusiasm. Lastly, if the critic be quite new to the world of letters, he may superfluously fear to vex a poet or a novelist by the abundance of his eulogy. No such doubts perplex us when, with all our hearts, we would commend the departed; for they have passed almost beyond the reach even of envy; and to those pale cheeks of theirs no commendation can bring the red.