If Dickens had been a learned University Professor he would not have possessed the equipment most needful for the artist who was to portray to us in an imperishable manner the London which is now fast disappearing. The people who censure Dickens are those for whom he has served a purpose and is of no further use. They are a mere drop in the ocean of readers. It is not easy to-day to gauge his precise position. The exhaustion of many of his copyrights has given up his work to a host of rival publishers. There are probably thousands of men and women now, as there were in the fifties and sixties, who have been stimulated by him, and who have found in his writings the aid to a cheery optimism which has made life more tolerable amid adverse conditions. Mrs Richmond Ritchie, Thackeray's daughter, tells us how keenly Dickens's capacity for stirring the heart was felt even in the home of the rival novelist. Thackeray's youngest daughter, then a child, looked up from the book she was reading to ask the question, "Papa, why do you not write books like 'Nicholas Nickleby'"? Thackeray himself shared the general enthusiasm. "David Copperfield!" he writes to a correspondent, "By Jingo! It is beautiful! It is charming! Bravo Dickens! It has some of his very brightest touches--those inimitable Dickens touches which make such a great man of him. And the reading of the book has done another author a great deal of good.... It has put me on my mettle and made me feel that I must do something; that I have fame and name and family to support."