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Full text of "The writings of Charles Dickens, with critical and bibliographical introductions and notes by Edwin Percy Whipple and others;"

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jton&arD lltbrar^ Ctition 



carncAL and bibliographical introductions 










in "Vkf^i' ■ 











Ittr eUbn^K ptTM, CambrtttQf 




428604 \ 



K 1929 L 


AU rights reserved. 

• • •• • • • • • • 

;••••#••• •• ! .• -. 

. •. . : • . • • 

• • * • • •• ' 'l.! 

•.• : ..t • 

. • • •• 

_ « • • • • 

• • •« 

• • • 

T%M StMnU§ 

id Pitefesd bj B. a BoafftteB A C<K 


Chup. ^V 


CCLXXXIV, Maek Lehos i 


CCLXIxn. Hiaa Mam Boil« 


CCLXXXVIll- Douglas Jbrbold V 

CCLXXXIX. Miu Hogarth 1 

CCXC. Tbe Samb 1 

CCXCI. W. C. Macbbadt i: 

CCXCn, The 3*«e l: 

CCXCIK. Mrs. CaAmxa Dickkmb !■ 


CCXCV. Mb, T. Roas. Mr.J. Krxmt 1' 




CCXCIX, The 3am « 

CCC, Walteb Savaqb Lakikib S 

CCCI. Thb Duhk or DivoNiiniBK S 


CCCIII. W. C. Macrbact * 

CCCIV. Frask Stonk, a, B. a « 


OCCVI. W. H. Wills 2 

cccvn. w. c. maceradt a 

ocxmi, w. H. WILL* » 

CCCIX. Mia. Dktuois. « 

CCCX. TiiB Ho». Una. Watbos » 

COCXI. Mia. HoRHE » 

CCCXII. Tue DuKN or DEVosHiiinE 3- 

OCCXiU. Thoma* Mitton » 

CCCXIV. W, C. Uacreadt 9 


OCCSVI. Wiu.iAM Crarlxb KitMT 3 

CCCXVII. StB Jahbh Eherson Tensknt 1 

CCCXTm. M. DK Cksjat , : 

CCCXtX. ftK KnwAKD BI7LH-ZR Lirros * IN 


COCXXI. MtM Mart Botl* U 

CCCJEXU. &*T. jAua Wmra a 

CCCXXIII. HiH Emilt Jou-t U 

CCCXXrV, Thi Eabl or Casliiu « 


CCCXXVI, Rir. Jake* Wmitt 4T 

J CCCXXVII. MiM Emilt Jollt 18 

I COCXXVIII. FuABi Stobe, a, K. a 19 

CCCXXIX. Abobtko™ SI 

CCCXXX. Hebst Aubtis U 


J CCC'XXXII. Educwo Yateb U 


I CCUXXXIV. Mrs. Comftoh U 

CCCXXXV. W, C. Macbkadt 5S 

J CCCXXXVI. Fbauk SroMK. A. R, A » 

J CCIJXXXVII. Hisar Austib H 

■CCCXXSVUI. Framk STOBa,A. R. A 57 


CCCXL. Hkcbt AtSTiH 59 

CCCXLI. Miu HooAsni 60 

CCCXUI. Th« Samk BI 

CCCXLllI. TiiK Samb 6J 


CCCXLV. Edmund Yateh 61 



CCCUain. Rav. Jahxs Wttirm M 

OOCLXXIV. Frask Stosb, A. R. A M 


CCCLXXVI. W. P. Fbtth, E. A * W 

CCCLXIVII. Ajtmun Sartn M 


CCCLXXIX. AjfTvato PANtzzi 101 

CCCLXXX. B. W. Pboctkb IM 

OCCLXXXI. EDnran Yatks m 

COCLXXXII. Thb Hon. Miu. Waisos UH 



OCXJLXXXV, Rbv, jAuxa Wiiitb IM 

CCCLXXXn. Mbb. Cowdeh Culkxx lOT 

OCCIJIIXVII. Jona Fobkter 101 

OOCLXXXriIl. Mm DioKBBB abd Hiu Katis Dunum I0« 


CCX;XC. MiM Etomas Ill 

COCXCL Frans Stvnk, A, R. A lU 



OCCXCIV. W, C. Macbeadt lU 


oocxcn. ewBT f. Cuowjor iw 

' CCCXCTII. Jomi FoBsTKB nt 

I cocxcnn, m. ok ckm.iat iio 

CCCXCDL 8iB Edward Biti,WBB Lttioh , . , ■ IM 

CCCC. Tbs Eabl of Cablislk Ui 

CCCCl. W. H. WtlXB 1» 

CCCCII. Tire Baa. Mmh. Watsoh lat 

CCCCin. Edmund Tatxb .188 

CCCCIV. MiM DicKiuta UB 

CCCCV, UiH HooARTii 180 

CCCCVI. MiM PowFR . 181 



OCCCIX. Sir Jobb Ih>wBiNo 185 

CCCCX. Miss Hooartii lU 

CCCCXI. A. H. LATAnn 116 

CCCCXII. MiM Kary Both 1S7 

OCCCXIII. M. DE Cerjat 189 

OCCCXIV. E. M. Ward. R. A lU 

CCCCXV. Sir Edward Bin.wm Lmow Mi 

CCCCXVI. Tre Samh m 

OCCCXTU. The Saks Ul 

OOCCXVUI. Lady OuAwnc Itt 

COCCXIX. W. C. Maceeadt liB ' 

OCCCXX. JoHF Foeiter Ug 

COCCXXI. Thi Hoir. Mas. WATwm \Kt 

COCCXXU. Mas. MiLHtn OiBsoy . Itt 1 

tVlXJ^X/II. WiCKit Covusa . . , . ■ ■ • 1 

• auXZJF. dOTKaa Smmt -, , ' 

CCCCXXV. Sib Edwako Bulwbb Lyttof lil 

CCCCXXVI. John Watkins IGS 

OCCCXXVn. Edmumd Yatm 16» 





CCCCXXXll. Th« Same 

CCCCXXXill. Mhb. Hbhbt Aubiin .... 




CCCCXXXVII. MisB Maby Bovlk 

CtiCCXXXVIll. Sia Kdwahd Bulweu Lvttoh . 

CCCCXXXIX. Miss Hooaiitii 

CCCCXL. Miaa Uickkhs 






CCCCXLVI. Ttia Sank 



CCCCXUX. The Samb 


OCCCLXXVn. Miss Hooabtb 193 

OCCCLXXVIII. Hexry F. Chorlet 19a 

OOCCLXXIX. W. H. Wills 194 


CCCCLXXXI. Makcus Stoue 196 

OCCCLXXXH. Charles Kkioht 197 

CCCCLXXXIII. Edmusd Oluer 197 

COCCLXXXIV. The Lord Chief Baron 198 

CCCCLXXXV. John Forster 199 

CCCCLXXXVI. Mrs. Sturrar 200 

OCCCLXXXVn. Percy Fitzgerald 200 

OOOCLXXXVIIf. Sir James Emerson Tknnent 201 

OCCCLXXXIX. Clarkson Stanfield, R. A 202 

CCCCXC. W. H. Wills 208 

CCCCXCI. M. DE Cerjat 203 

CCCCXCII. W. H. Wills 206 

CCCCXCIII. B. W. Procter 206 

CCCCXCIV. William Charles Kent 207 

CCCCXCV. Mrs. Procter 207 

CCCCXCVI. W. C. Macrsadt 208 

CCCCXCVII. The Same 208 

CCCCXCVUI. The Same 210 

CCCCXCIX. Thomas Mitton 210 

D. Mrs. Hulkes 212 

DI. Mr. Percy Fitzgerald 218 

DII. Professor Owen, F. R. S 213 

Dili. Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton 213 

DIV. Earl Ruhsell 215 

DV. Marcus Stone 216 

DVI. Percy Fitzgerald 216 

DVII. Mrs. Procter 217 

DVIII. Edmund Yatks 217 

DIX. Henry F. Chorley 218 

DX. Mks. Procter 218 

DXI. William Charles Kent 219 

DXII. M. de Cerjat 219 

DXin. Miss Dickens 222 

DXIV. Miss Mary Boyle 223 

DXV. William Charles Kent 224 

DXVI. John Forsteh 225 

DXVII. Percy Fitzgerald 226 

DXVIH. Miss Hogarth 226 

DXIX. Mrs. Brookfield 227 

DXX. Robert Browning 229 

DXXI. Miss Hogarth 229 

DXXII. Miss Dickens 2.J0 

DXXIII. Miss Hogarth 230 

DXXIV. Miss Dickens 231 

DXXV. Miss Hogarth 232 

DXXVI. Miss Dickens 232 

DXXVII. Miss Hogarth 233 

DXXVIII. The Same 234 


DXXIX. Misa Lilt Behzov 334 

DXXX, Lord Lvttoh 33S 

DXXXI. fl. W, Proctbb m 

DXXXII. Sib James Eusbsoh Tk.ikent 8M 

DXXXin. Chabi^ Fechteh 13« 



DXXXVI. Ahonyhodb 940 


DXXXVni. M. DK Cerjat Ml 


DXL. Miiis DiCKBNB S4« 


DXLII. MiBs DicKEics Ml 

DXLlll. Tub Sa«e «T 

DXLIV. Akontmods M" 

DXLV. Misi HooAETH wa 


DXLVU. Miaa Huuartr M9 

DXLVin. Miss DiCKBHs 360 

DXUX. Jewish Lad» 9W 

DL. M1B8 HooABTa ail 

DLL The Sake asJ 

DLIL Mis» DicEEjts US 


DLIV. The Same SM 

^^^^^^r CONTENTS H 



^^^KXcm. The 8*¥» 


DXCV. MiM HooiRiB 



, . . 29B 

^^^KpClir. M»a iloQABTn 

. , , 306 

^^^■cm. Htm DicKua ..... 



^^^^bOC. CiiAni.E> UsHAH 

^^^^BCXJ. Tbk Saub 


^^■Cttll. NtM DicKKxa 





..... S18 



DCXXXITI. Mbb. Gkobob Cattbrmolb 8« 

DCXXXIV. Chaklkb Fechteii 346 

DCXXXV. Mbb. Jamm T. Fiblim 311 

DCXXXVI, W. C. Macrbadt M 


DCXXXVm. J. E. Mil-LAiB, B, A Ml 

Dcxxxix. mhb. HEsitT AuATiH aai 

DCXL. MnB. Gkorqk Catteemolk ffi3 

DCXLI. Mb, Sbrle 3M 


DCXLIII. M, dkCbbjat 8U 



DCXLVI, CHARLia Feohteb iM 

DCXLVn. Thb Samk J6T 



DCL. KiU HooABTH as8 

DCLI. Hkxbt Fikldiho DiCKKxa 169 

DCLII, William Charles Kemt S60 

DCLIII. Mbs. F. Lehmahh Ml 

DCMV, Mlsa UoGAMTH 361 



DC1.VII. The Samr 363 


^^^^^■^ CONTESTS 

DCLXXX7. TnoKAS Ciiwi-KU, 



























Dt:XC. W. C. MicRB-M-r 

^^^—iK^XCII. Eduomp Olliki. 

^^^HCXCIV. AKTituK Rri^xD 


^^^^CCIII. W. II. Willi 


^^HRXIV. Mu. E. H. Wam> 


^^^^■i>nou>. CoaRKCTiniT. Pebbuaiit 1,18*2 

^^^^BuiMilUM. PaoRiURT 3», 1844 

^^^Bmoox. ArKii. ISM 

^^^JpwflU Mtr HO. im . . . 

adT 00MTENT8 

Xin. LOHIKW, KOVKMBBR 2, 1867 . . . . 
XIV. Nkw Tobk, April 20, 1868 . . . . 
ZY. Stdbiihaic, A00O8T 30, 1869 . . , 
XVI. St. Jamxs's Hall, March 15, 1870 
XVU. LoRDOV, Mat 2, 1870 

^^^^^^^^^^^^L .^H 






From . 

After ■ dmring. 


Afwt a drawing. 

After an angraviag. 


■ . . . au 


AIiK • photogf»pli. 

Frmn ■ photograph by Mm. CameroQ. 

AJltr an ragraving by Edward Stodart. 

All« a >ke(eb by F. G. KilloD. 

After an original drawing. 

Afl^r (n ugTBtring by Edward Stodart. ■ 
UiMHrxr .», ■ 

AtUr ■ drawing by J. Hiyter. 


After .>.*ng«i™g. 

Carol and 

*' ■'"'^ ^ 





-19, CHAHra Ei-vsfiits, Sunday, Jinuuy 6, 1SS6. 

Mv PKAB Wills, — I should like Morley to do & strike 

article, and to work into it the greater part of what is here. 

But 1 caanot represent myBelf as holding the opinion that all 

Htrikes among thia unhappy class of society, who Gnd it bo dilti- 

> get a peaceful hearing, are always necessarily wrong, 

i 1 don't think so. To open a discussion of the question 

J that the nicin are " of eoitrse entirely and painfully 

e wrong," surely would be monstrous in any one. Show 

n to be iu the wrong here, but in the name of the eternal 

boTNie Bhow why, upon the merits of thia question. Nor can 

, IjnNibly adopt the representation that these men are wrong 

e by throwing themselves out of work they throw other 

lie, possibly without their consent. If such a principle had 

' ' _ ' ; it, there conlJ have been no civil war, no raising 

f Hunpden of a troop of horse, to the detriment of Buck- 

' il^ihtmsliire agriculture, no self-sacrifice in the political world. 

And (lb, good God, when treats of the suffering of wife 

*nd r.hildien, can he suppose that these mistaken men don't feel 
itia the depths of their hearts, and don't honestly and honour- 
»Wjr, most devoutly and faithfully, believe that for those very 
ttitlihsn, when they shall have children, they are bearing all 
1 bear from Mrs. Fillonnenu that her husband was obliged to 
'~' town suddenly before ho conid get your parcel, conse- 
■nUy hi! has not brought it; and White's sovereigns — 
fl««you liavB got them back again — are either lyiri^ out ol 
•MwUlion gomewherv. or are being spent by someboAy eW. \ 
t tigsiii oa Tuesday. My article is to Vglu tti* vtt- 
Evet iavltluWs . 



49, CiiAHFS Ei-TskKS, Paris. Moadar, January T, 18M. 

My dear Mark, — I want to know how '-Jack and the 
Beanstalk" goes. I have a notion from a notice — a favour- 
able notice, however — which I saw in " Gaiignani," that Web- 
Bt«r hoa k't down the comic huaine«B. 

In a piece at the Ambigij, called the " Keiitr«!e i Paris," a 
more scene in honour of the return of the troops from the 
Crimea the other day, there is a novelty which I think it worth 
letting you know of, as it is eiasily available, either for a serious 
OT a comic interest — the introduction of a supposed electric 
telegraph. The scene is the railway terminus at Paris, with 
the electric telegraph-office on the prompt aide, and the clerks 
toith their banks to the audlewe — much more real tlian if they 
were, as they infallibly would ho, staring about the house — 
working the needles ; and the little bell perpetually ringing. 
There are assembled to greet the soldiers, ail the easily and 
natunkUy imagined elements of interest — old veteran fathers, 
young children, agonised mothers, sisters and brothers, girl lov- 


wonodod ? " Little bell rings. Slip of paper handed out — 
" So. He has not yet upon liim those marks of bravery in the 
glarkius eervice of his country which his dear old father bears " 
(father being lamed and invalided), Ijist of all, the widoired 
mother. Marquis sends mesNige — such a regiment, such a 
eonpaiiy — "Is my only son safe ? " Little bell rings. Slip of 
«r handed out — " He was first upon the heights of Alma." 
I cheer. Bell rings again, another slip of paper handed 
'He was made a eergeant at Inkermanu." Another 
Bell rings again, anotlier slip of papier handed out. — 
"He was made colour^ergeaat at Sebastoptol." Another cheer. 
Bell rini;8 again, another glip of paper handed out — " He was 
the first man who leaped with the French banner on the Mulak- 
hoff tower." Tremendous cheer. Bell rings again, another slip 
of paper handed out — " But he was struck down there by a 
moskeUhnll, and — Troops have proceeded. Will arrive in 
half a minute after this." Mother abandons nil hope ; general 
tunimi.seration ; troops rush in, down a platform ; sou only 
wounJed, and embraces her. 

As I have said, and as you will see, this is available for any 
imrpo»\ But done with equal distinction and rapidity, it is a 
tnineDdous etTect, and got by the simplest means iu the world, 
1 nothing in the piece, hut it was impossible not to be 
[ and excited by the telegraph part of it, 

you have seen something of Stanny, and have been to 
simcs with him, and have drank to the absent Dick. I 
u, my denr old boy, at the play, woefully, and mjsa the 
ime, nnd the partings at the corner of Tavistock Square. 
And when I go by myself, I come home stewing " Little Dor- 
" '' ia my head ; and the best part of my piny is (or ought to 
' i QordoB Street. 

I written to Iteancourt about taking that breeKV house 
le improved — for the summer, and I hojie you and 

II come there often and stay there long. My present 
, if nothing should arise to unroot mo sooner, is to stay here 

HBlil Iha miildle of May, then plant the family at Boulogne, 
*ti romp with Catlierine and Georgy home for two or three 
•*Im. When I shall next nin across I don't kiiow,>iMt \ sii^ 
f»t next moritb. 

lAflees ia mud here. LilcraUy iiv ■^reVfcTOfttA 
i the avenue outside l\i6 BattvM " 


I'Etoile here yesterday, and went straight on among tbe trees. 
I came hack with top-boots of mud on. ^Nothing will cleanse 
the streets. Numbers of men and women are for ever scooping 
and sweeping in them, and they are always one lake of yellow 
mud. All my trousers go to the tailor's every day, and are 
ravelled out at the heels every night. Washing is awful. 

Tell Mrs. Lemon, with my love, that I have bought her some 
Eau d'Or, in grateful remembrance of her knowing what it is, 
and ctuabiiig the tyrant of her existence by resolutely refusing 
to bo put down when that monster would have silenced her. 
You may imagine the loves and messages that are now being 
poured in upon me by all of them, so I will give none of them; 
though I am pretending to be very scrupulous about it, and am 
looking (I have no doubt) as if I were writing them down with 
the greatest care. Ever affectionately. 


49, Chahi^ ElmkAka, SslurdiT 

Ft Collins, — I had ti 


Bildle-headed and bored, that if you were here, I should propose 
on uutaataneouB rush to the Troia Frbres. Uudet existing cir- 
camstaDces I have no coasolation. 

I think THE portrait ' is the most astounding thing ever 
beheld upon this globe. It has been shrieked over by the 
united hmily as " Ob ! the very image ! " I went down to the 
entresol the moment I opened it, and eubmitted it to the Plorn 
— then engE^ed, with a haU-frauc musket, in capturing a Mslak- 
huff of clisira. He looked at it very hard, and gave it as his 
opinion that it was Miseer Uegg. We suppose hint to have 
coDfounded the Colonel with JotUna. I met Madame George 
S*nd the other day at a dinner got up by Madame Viardot for 
Uut great purpose. The human mind cannot conceive any one 
more utonishingly opposed to all my preconceptions. If 1 had 
been shown her in a state of repose, and asked what I thought 
htt to be, I should have said : " The Queen's monthly r 
As retle, she has nothing of the bas bleu about her, and is very 
(piict and agreeable. 

The way in which mysterious Frenchmen call, and want to 
tmlince me, suggea[.s to any one who knows me iutimately 
luch infamouB lurking, slinking, getting behind doors, evading, 
Ifing — BO much mean resort to craven Highta, dastard suh(«r- 
f'lKfi, and miserable poltroonery — on my part, that 1 merely 
: ' <r iirrivol of cards like this: — 



- and I Uien write letters of terrific empressemeat, with assur- 

B of all sorts of profound cod side rations, and never by any 

ice become visible to the naked eye. 

At tlie Porte St. Martin they are doing the " Orestes," put 

1 French verse by Alexandre Dmnas. Really one of the 

bbsurdest things I ever saw. The scene of the tomb, with all 

inner of classical females, in black, grouping themselves on 

B lid, aiid oa the steps, and on each other, and in every con- 

Iceivable aspect of obtrusive impossibility, is just like the window 

|of one of those artists in hair, who address the friends of de- 

id parsons. To-morrow week a fete ia coming off at the 

in d'Hiver, next door but one here, which I must certainly 

). The fete of the company of the Folies Nouvelles ! The 

3 of the company are to keep sfalla, and are to sell to Mes- 

s the Amateurs orange-water and lemonade. Paul le Gnmd 

s to promenade among the company, dressed as Pierrot. Kalm, 

g-faced comic singer, ia to do the like, dressed as a Rus- 

a Cossack. The entertainments are to conclude with "La 

a des Betes ftjroces, par la Troupe enticre des Folies Nou- 

without invasion of the rights of British sub- 


IS, CiiiuFS Ei.Te£u. Tajus, Januirj SB, ISSG. 
DEAR Makt, — I am afraid you will think me an uban- 

ruffian tor not liaiing acknowledged your more thaa 

haodsome, warm-beorted letter before uow. But, aa usual, I 
have \iuea so occupied, and so glad to get up from my desk and 
mllow ill tbe mud {nt preseut about six feet deep bere), tliat 
]>li!ti£ure correspondence is just the laitt thing in the world I 
bave had leisure to take to. Business correspondence with nil 
Borta and conditions of nitiii and women, ray Mary ! is one of 
the dt^oiis I am perpetuully fighting ; and the more I throw 
it, the more it stands upon its bind legs, rampant, and throws 

Ves, on tliat bright cold morning when I left Peterboro', I 
fult that the be»t thing I could do was to say that word that 
I would do anything in an honest way to avoid saying, at one 
liiow, and make off. I wua bo sorry to leave you all I Yon can 
Karcoly imagine what a cbill and blank I fi^lt on that Monday 
«T«iiing at Itockinghum. It was so sad to me, and engendered 
I constraint bo melandioly and peculiar, that I doubt if I were 
ever much more out of sorts in my life. Kest morning, when 
il »M light and spurkliiig out of doors, I felt more at home 
(gain. But when I came in from seeing poor dear Watson's 
gBvft, JIrs, Watson a«ked me to go up in the gallery, which I 
W la*t seen in the days of out merry piny. We went up, and 
wtlked into the very part he had made and was so fond of, and 
iIh looked out of one window and I looked out of another, 
ind for tbci life of me I could not decide in my own heart 
wtwther 1 should console or distress ber by going and taking 
lirt hand, ami saying something of what was naturally in my 
mind. 80 I saJd nothing, snd we came out again, and on the 
whole porhnpti it was best ; for I buve no doubt we understood 
Mch xtUvr \vty well without speaking a word. 

Shufiicld was a tremendous success and an admirable audience. 
Tbtj made me a present of table-cutlery afl-er the reading was 
Oter; «nd 1 came nwny hy the mail-train within thte© >\\mT\jeTa 
•f on hoor, ehoaging my decas and getting on mj WT&vV^,ta 
""'" '" ^J^'^^^jy ;'. *^f ign . ptirtly on t\ie v\*^l««a- 
~ "'" it began " 


That changed to aleet, that changed to rain ; the frost was all 
gone as we iieared Loadon, and the mud has all codio. At two 
or three o'clock in the morning I stopped at Feterboro' again, 
and thought of you all disconsolately. The lady in the refresh- 
ment-room was very bard upou me, harder eTen than those fair 
enslavere usually are. She gave me a cup of tea, as if I were a 
hyena, and she my cruel keeper with a strong dislike to me. 
I mingled my tears with it, and had a petrified bun of enormous 
antiquity io miserable meekness. 

It is clear to me that climates are gradually assimilating ovRf 
a great part of the world, and that in the moat misemhle part of 
our year there is very little to choose between London and Paris, 
except that London is not so muddy. I have never seen dirtier 
or worse weather than wo have had here since I returned. In 
desperation I went out to the Barrieres last Sunday on a head- 
long walk, and came back with my very eyebrows smeared with 
mud. Georglna is usually invisible during the walkiag-time 
of the day. A turned-up nose may be seen in, the midst of 
splashes, but nothing n 


T and the bleseetl babbies. When ehall we meet a^ 
sonder, aud go somewhere ! Ah I 

Believe me ever, my deat Mary, 

Yours truly and afiectionutely, 
(That doesn't look pluin.) 


" HocBEROu) Words," Fridiy, February 8, 1S56. 
Mr DKAB Geokgy, — I must write this at railroad speed, for 
1 hive been at it all day, and have numbers of letters to cram 
fata the next half hour. I began the morning in the City, for 
tfaa Theatrical Fund ; went on to Shepherd's Bush ; came back 
to leave cards for Mr. Baring and Mr. Bates ; run across Picca- 
dilly to Stmtton Street, stayed there an hour, and shot off here. 
1 have been in four cahs to-da.y, at a cost of thirteen shilling?. 
Am going to dine with Mark and Webster at half-past four, and 
finish the evening at the Adelphi. 

The (liniier was very successful. Charley was iu great force, 
tad fioomd Peter Cunoiagham and the Audit Office on a ques- 
tion about some hill transactions with Baring's. The other 
gnesta were B. and E., Shirley Brooks, Forster, and that 's all. 
Tbo dinner admirable. I never had a better. All the wine I 
BBDt duwn from Tavistock House. Anne waited, and looked 
voll Mul happy, very much brighter altogether. It gave me 
great pleasure to sec her so improved. Just before dinner I got 
■II tlie letters from home. They could not have arrived more 

The godfathei^s present looks charming now it is eograved, 
uid Joha is just now going off to take it to Mrs. Yates, To- 
Wills and 1 are going to Gad's Hill. It will occupy 
>!« day, and will just leave me time to get home to dress 

B ail that I have to say, except that the first oura- 
" Little Dorrit " has gone to forty thousand, ami the 
e last following. 
' ImM /ore to (^Iherwe, and to Mamey atvi Rji\«Yi *'^'''- 
- -^■Hany,aikit^iitaJePAom. I am grie-^ai to \wk 


about his black eye, and fear that I shall find it in the green 
aud purple state on my return. 

Ever atfectionately. 

The Humble Petition of Chakles Dickens, 
A. Distressed Fureigneb, 

Sbewetii, — That your Petitioner has not been able to write 
one word to-day, or to fashion forth the dimmest shade of the 
faintest ghost of an idea. 

That your Petitioner ia therefore desirous of being taken out, 
and is not at all particular where. 

That your Petitioner, being imbecile, saya no more. But wiU 
aver, etc. (whatever that may be). 

Pahih, Mircb 3, ISaS. 


"HocBEHOLD Words" Office, March S, I8SS. 
My dear Jerrold, — Buckatone haa been with me to-day 

•1 .^*fv^*>^^^ 



^ ...-W 

v^^' ^ 


"BoUBBiioLB Words " Ofkici, Tucsdir. Maftb II, I8M.1 
My dear Geoeoy, — I have been in bed half the day with 
my cold, which is excessively violent, consequently have to write 
in a great liiury to save the post. 

Tell Catherine that I have the moet prodigious, overwhelm- 
ing, criiehing, nstonuding, blinding, deafening, pulverising, scari- 
Iring secret, of which Korster is the hero, inmginable by the 
whiilo eS'iTtA of the whole British population. It is a thing of 
tb&t kind thnt, after I koew it (from himself), this moroing, I 
lay down llat as if an engine and tender hud fallen npou mo. 

Lovp to Catherine (not a word of Forster before any one else), 
and to Mamey, Katey, Harry, and the noble Plom. Tell t^ol- 
tios, with my kiml reganla, that Forater has jiist pronounced to 
me that " Collins is a decidedly clever fellow." I hope he is a 
bett«r fellow in health, too. Ever afiectionately. 



"HouiBnoLD WouDS," Friday, March 1*, ISM. 
a Geoboy, — I am amazed to hear of the anow (I 

't know why, but it excited John this morning beyond 
') ; though we have had the same eaat wind here, and 
(/<r cold and mi/ cold have both been intense, 

yesterday evening Webster, Mark, Stanny, and I went to the 
Ol ytnpic, where the Wigana ranged ua in a row in a gorgeous and 
itnroense private box, and where we saw " Still Waters Bun 
Dacp." I laughed (in a conspicuous manner) to that extent at 
Etnery, when he received the dimier-corapany, that the jieople 
were more amused by me than by the piece. I don't think 
I over saw anything meant to be funny that struck me as so 
pxtraoidinarily drolL I could n't get over it at all. After the 
piew wa Wdnt round, by Wigan'e invitation, to drink with him. 
It being positively imponsible to get Stanny off the stage, we 
fitooH ia Ihe wings during the burlesque, Mrs. Wignn seemed 
iwlly gW to see her old roanager, and the compat\j onct- 
wbpliu«J him with embraces. They had nearly all Wen at IW 
— '- — ill the momiug. 

«««/ he»riuB [rem Mr. Fonter of hi. inwaiad nv^mie*. 


I have seen Charley only twice since I came to London, 
having regularly heen in hed until midday. To my amaze- 
ment, ray eye fell upon him at the Adelphi yesterday. 

This day I have paid the purchase-money for Gad's Hill 
Place. Alter drawing the cheque, I turned round to give it to 
Wills (£1,790), and said: "Now isn't it an estraordinaty 
thing — look at the day — Friday I I have been nearly draw- 
ing it half a dozen timee, when the lawyers bave not been ready, 
aod here it comes lotind upon a Friday, as a matter of course." 

KtGB the noble Flora a dozen times foe me, and tell him I 
drank his health yesterday, and wished him many happy re- 
turns of the day ; also that I hope he will not have brokeu all 
bis toys before I come hock. 

Ever affectionately. 

40, Cramps ELTsfiES, Fabu, Saturday, Harcb 23, 1850. 
My dsab Macready, — I want you — you being quite well 
B I trust you are, and resolute to come to Faris — 


thing whatever remamed but bricks and smelted iron lying on a 
great black desert, the theatre still looked so wonderfully like 
its old self grown gigantic that I never saw so strange a sight. 
Tbe wall dividing the front from the stage still remained, and 
the iron pass-doors stood ajar in an imposBibla and inaccessible 
frame.' The arches that supported the stage were there, and the 
■Tchea that supported the pit ; and in the centre of the latter 
by BOmething like a Titanic grapevine that a hurricane had 
pulled up by the roots, twisted, and fiung down there ; this was 
tbe giwit chandelier. Gye had kept the men's wardrobe at the 
top of the house over the great entrance staircase ; when the 
roof fell in it came down bodily, and all tbnt port of the ruina 
«u like an old Babylonic pavement, bright rays teasellating the 
Uncle ground, sometimes in pieces eo largo that I could make 
•Hi the clothes in the " Trovatnre." 

I iihould run on for a couple of hours if I bad to describe the 
fjiMtocle OS I saw it, therefore I will immediately muzzle my- 
iielf. All bere unite in kindest loves to dear Miss Macready, to 
Katie, Lillie, Benvenuta, my godson, and the noble Johnny. 
We are charmed to hear such happy accounts of Willy and 
Ned, and send our loving remembrance to them in the next 
ItttwB, All Parisian novelties you shall see and hear for your- 

tEver, my dearest Macready, 
Your affectionate friend. 
, 8. — Mr, F.'a aunt sends her deliant respects. 


Thiir>d*y Nighl, March 37, IBM (mfUr posl-llnie). 

Mr ntiXKFjn Macready, — If I had hod any idea of your 
coaing (w bow naturally I use the word when I am three 
hoDilird miles offl) to London so soon, I would never have 
vrittt'n one word about the jump over next week. I oin vexed 
Ihst I did BO, but aa 1 did I will not now propose a change in 
tiw arrangements, as I know how methodical you ttemendoneVj 
cM fellows nre. That 'a j'our secret lanspect. Thal'a V'he'wa.'j 
"the blood of tbe Mirabela mounts iti yout aged \«\'a&, 



How charmeil I shall be to see you, and we al! shall be, 1 
will not attempt to say. Ou that expected Sunday you will 
lunch at Amiens but not dine, because we shall wait dinner for 
you, and jou will merely have to tell that driver in the glared 
hftt to come straight here. ^Vhea the Whites left I added their 
little apartment to tliia little apartment, consequently you shall 
have a snug bedroom (is it not waiting expressly for you ?) 
overlooking the Chanips Elyst'es. As to the arm-chair in my 
heart, no man on earth — but, good God ! you know all 
about it. 

You will find us in tba qiieerest of little rooms all alone, 
except that the son of Collins the painter (who writes a good 
deal in " Household Words '') dines with ua every day. 
Scheffer and Scribe shall be admitted for ooe evening, because 
they know how to appreciate you. The Emperor we will not 
aak unless you expressly wish it ; it makes a fuss. 

If you have no appointed hotel at Boulogne, go to the HGtel 
des litiiis, there demand " Marguerite," and tell her that I com- 
ou to her special care. It is the beat house within 
my experience in Prance; Marguerite the beat housekeeper 

MBa cuarles dickens 

"Little Chil'l's Birtbday Purty," is quite delightful. There 
ore many interesting pictures. When you see Scheffet, tell him 
1 me that Eastlakc, in his cpeecli at the dinner, referred to 
tportrait oa " a contribution from a distinguished man of 
mat in Fmnce, worthy of himself and of liia subject." 
C did the maddest thing last night, and am deeply penitent 
8 miming. Via stayed at Webster's till any hour, and they 
wantod nie, at last, to make punch, which couldn't be done 
when the jug vua brought, becatise (t^ Weheter's burning in- 
dignation) tiiere wna only one lemon in the bouse. Hereupon 
I then and there besought the eetabliehment in general to eonie 
and drink punch on Thursday night, after the play ; on which 
oecasioH it will become neceasary to furnisb fully the table with 
tome cold viands from Fortnum and Mason's. Mark has looked 
in unco 1 began this note, to suggest that the great festivnl may 
eom« off at " Household Words " instead. I am inelined to 
tfaink it n good idea, and that I shall transfer the locality to 
that business nstnbliahmeiit. But I am at present distracted 
•itli dotihte and torn by remorao. 

Tbc Ecboolroom and dining-room I have brought into bahit- 
Abl« cundition and comfortable appearance. Charley and I 
bratkfaet at half-past eight, and meet again at dinner when he 
diiM iii>t dine in the City, or has no engngemt^nt. Ho looks 
»ery well 

The audiences at Gye's are Jescrilwd to me as absolute mar- 
vvls of col<In<;ss. Ko signs of emotion can be hammereil out of 
them. I'aniuii sat next me at the Academy ilinner, and took it 

veiy ill that I disparaged . The amateurs here are getting 

Up mother pantomime, but quarrel so violently among Ihem- 
mUfh that I doubt its ever getting on the stage. Webster ex- 
jwondeil liia scheme for rebuilding the Adelphi to Stantield and 
iii;fi«lf last night, and I felt bound to tell him that I thought it 
mnng from beginning to end. This is all the theatrical news 
I knuw. 

I mite hy this poet to Georgy. Love to Jfaraey, Katey, 
BuTj, and the noble Plom. I should be glad to sec him here. 
Ever affectionately. 



Tavihtock House, Uondcr, M*j b, 18S6. 

Mt dear Geokgt, — You will not be much surprised to 
hear that I have done nothing yet (eKoept for " H. W."), and 
have only just settled down into a comer of the schoolroom. 
The extent to which John and I wallowed in dust for four hours 
yesterday morning, getting things neat and comfortable about 
us, you may faintly imagine. At four in the afternoon came 
Stanfield, to whom I no sooner deecribed the notion of the npw 
play than he immediately upset al! my new airangements by 
making a proscenium of the chairs, and planning the scenery 
with walking-sticks. One of the least thinga he did was get- 
ting on the top of the long table, and hanging over the bar in 
the middle window where that top sanh opens, as if be had got 
a hinge in the middle of his body. He is immensely excited 
on the subject. Mark Lad a farce ready for the managerial 
perusal, but it won't do. 

iv-ent to the Dover theatre on Friday night, which waa a 



% a puinlul picture of a groat deal ot mnrit (Egg baa 
fht it) in tlio exliibition, paiuted by the man who did tliose 
) iiileriore of Forster'a. It is called '■ The Death of Chat- 
tfftUm." The dead figure is a good deal like Arthur Stone; 
and I was touched on Saturday to see that tender old file Bt<ind- 
ing before it, crying under hta spectaele^ at the idt-a of sueing 
his eon dead. It was a very tender mauifestntion of hia gentle 
utii heart. 

This Bums up my news, whleh is no news at all. Kiss the 
Plom for me, and expound to him that I am always looking 
fonvanl to meeting him again, among the birds and flowers in 
the garden on the aide of tha hill at Boulogne, 

Ever affectionately. 

. Mil. T. ROMS. MIt. J. KE.VtJy 

Tavihtuck HouaB, Monday, 19lli Mny, 1SS6. 

GbxtlEMbk, — 1 have received a letter signed by you (which 
I aHntiue to be written mainly on behalf of what are ealled 
worVii^; men and their families) inviting nio to attend a meet- 
ing in our Parish Vestry Hall this evening on the subject of 
the iitup|)ai,'e of the Sunday bands in the Parks. 

I tboroiighly agree with you that those hands have afforded 
~ iioccnt and healtliful enjoyment on the Sunday afternoon, 
~ Ich the people have a right. But I think it essential that 
^Wking people should, of themselves and by themselves, 
t thai right. They have been informed, on the high au- 
' lltf w t ty of tlieir first Ministi-'r (lately rather in want of House 
of Cbmnioiis votea, I am told), tbut they are almost indili'erent 
to it. Tlt<^ correction of that mistake, if oHicial omniscience 
eu be tiUBtaken, lies with themselves. In case it should be 
eOiuttilctcil by the meeting, which I prefer for this reason not 
to atlwiil, expj'ilieot to unit* with other Metropolitan parishes 
In forming a fund for the payment of such expeiieeB as may he 
iaeurreil in peaceably and numerously repreaenting to the gov- 
aming pownrs that the barmlesa recreation they have taken 
f w Tory much wanted, I beg you to put down my name 

li'iabMribei of ten pounds. 

Aiid I am, your failhiuV servnut. 



Tavi)!TOCK Il'iiTSR, Sunday, Jan* 1, 1»H. 

My dear Duke of Devonshire, — Allow me to tbank you 
with all my huart for your kind remembratiM of me on Thure- 
dsy night. My bouse was already engaged to Miaa Coutts'e, 
and I to — the top of St. Paul's, where the sight was moat 
wonderful ! But seeing that yoiif cards gave nie leave to pre- 
sent some person not named, I conferred them on my excellent 
friend Dr. Elliotson, whom I found with some (ireworkloss little 
boya in a desolate condition, and raised to the seventh heaven 
of happiness. You are so fond of making people happy, that 
I am sure you approve. 

Always your faithful and much obliged. 


Tavistock Hui'sk, June 0. I85«. 
Mv DEAR CoLLiss, — I have never seen anything about 

culation, I was engaged there, and that I remnioed there until 
I had begun to puhliali " Pickwick," when I fouud uiyseU in a 
condition to relinquish tliat purt of mj labours ; that I left the 
teputation behind me of being the best and most rapid r^port^r 
*v«r known, and tliat I could do anything in that way under 
uij eort of circumstancee, and often di,d. (I dare say I am at 
thu preaciit writing the best shorthand writer in the world.) 

That I began, without any intereet or introduction of any 
kind, to wrilfl fugitive piecea for the old " Monthly Hagaiitne," 
when I was in the gallery for " The Mirror of I'nrliunient ; " 
that my fatuity for descriptivti writing was seized upon the mo- 
ment I joined " The Alomiag Chronicle," and that I was liberally 
paid there and hsmlsomely acknowledged, and wrote the greater 
pwt of the fthort dt^9c^iptive " Sketches by IJok " in that paper ; 
that I bad been a writer when I waa a mere baby, and always 
an actor from the same age ; that I married the daughter of a 
writer to tbe signet in Edinburgh, who was the great friend and 
asmtant of Scott, and who first made Lockhatt known to him. 

And that here I am. 

Finally, if you want any dutee of publication of books, tell 
Willn and he 'II get them for jou. 

Thi« is the first time I ever eet down even these particulars, 
<ni, glancing over them, I feel like a wild beast in a caravan 
"ing himself in the keeper's absence. 

Ever faithfully. 

- 1 made a speech IfiFt night at the Loudon Tavern, 

' ■*U»end of which all the company unt holding their napkins 

lolWr eyes with one hand, and putting the other into their 

pwkf.U. A hundred jKiople or so contributed nine hundred 

Itimdii then and there. 


Till A dks MnTn,t!iE»rx. Dom,ooNB, 
Sunday, Junv lb, ISSB. 

I DBAli Oi-t> BoT, — This place is beautiful — a burKt of 
, -I. Your friend Itenncourt (who w!U not put on Ms \m\>( 
"•thinned the Inww and greatly improvetl the gutAtu. "V^^ii 
y % i fc/i'gre (Aero ate at least twenty ^ivMrnA amoV\u%- 


And as soon as you can see your day in next month for 
coming over with Stanny and Webster^ will you let them hoth 
know? I should not be very much surprised if I weie to 
come over and fetch you, when I know what your day i& 
Indeed, I don't see how you can get across properly wiUiout 

There is a f^te here to-night in honour of the Imperial bap- 
tism, and there will be another to-morrow. The Plom has pat 
on two bits of ribbon (one pink and one blue), which he calls 
'^ company 8," to celebrate the occasion. The fact that the 
receipts of the fetes are to be given to the sufferers of the late 
floods reminds me that you will find at the passport-office a tin 
box, condescendingly and considerately labelled in English : — 


which the chief officer clearly believes to mean, for the sufferen 
from the inundations. 

I observe more Mingles in the laundresses' shops, and one 
inscription, which looks like the name of a duet or chorus in a 
playbill, " Here they mingle." 

WiU you congratulate Mrs. Lemon, with our loves, on her 
gallant victory over the recreant cabman ? 

Walter has turned up, rather brilliant on the whole ; and 
that (with shoals of remembrances and messages which I don*t 
deliver) is all my present intelligence. 

Ever affectionately. 


" H. W." OrncB, July S, 18S6. 

My DEAR Mark, — I am concerned to hear that you are ill, 
that you sit down before fires and shiver, and that you have 
stated times for doing so, like the demons in the melodramas, 
and that you mean to take a week to get well in. 

Make haste about it, like a dear fellow, and keep up your 
spirits, because I have made a bargain with Stanny and Web- 
ster that they shall come to Boulogne to-morrow week, Thursday 
the 10th, and stay a week. And you know how much pleas- 
are we shall all miss if you are not among us — at least for 
some part of the time. 


If jou find any unusually light appearance in the air at 
Brighton, it is a distant refraction (I h&vB no doubt) of the go> 
genus and shining surface of Tavistock Ilouae, now transcend- 
tatiy painted. The tlieatre partition is put up, and is a vork 
of such terrific Eolidity, thut I suppose it will be dug up, ages 
htince, from the ruins of London, by that Australian of Ma- 
caiilnjr's who is to Iw impressed by its ashes. I have wandered 
through the spectral halls of the Tavistock mansion two nights, 
with feelings of the profoundest depression. I have breakfasted 

ire, like a criminal in Pentonville (only not so well). It is 

like Westmiusler Abbey by midnight than the lowest- 

ited man — say you, at present, tor example — can well 

lere has been a wonderful robbery at Folkestone, by the 
mannger of the Pavilion, who succeeded Giovannini, He 
in keeping £IG,000 of a foreigner's, and bolted with it, as 
supposed, but in reality with only £1,400 of it. The 
rrB[ii:iui«n had previously bolted with the whole, which was 
Uit property of his mother. With him to England the Freneh- 
am brought a " lady," who was, all the time and at the same 
lime, endeavouring to steal all the money from him and bolt 
»ith it herself. The details are amazing, and all the money 
{» fitw pounds excepted) has been got back. 

They will be full of sympatliy and talk about you when 1 get 
tiiBi!, and I shall tell them that I send their loves beforehand. 
Thej Mr all inclosed. The moment you feel hearty, just write 
nw tliat word by post. I sliaU be so delighted to receive it. 
Ever, my dear boy, your affectionate friend. 



Saturday EveninR, July 0, ISSS. 

^Mi D«A R Landob, — I write to you so often in my books, 

faj writing of letters is usually so confined to the numbers 

]t I miutt write, anil in which I have no kind of satisfaction, 

1 un afnid to think how long it is since we exchanged a 

But talking to your namesake this vot^ iwj rt. 

t gnddonJr ratoreii ray head tiiat 1 ■wouU come \ttte 

B bav M aooa as dinner should be otot, kh4 -wrAfc^ 

■ f" Jior tl» plaHan«t\ 


the answer under your own hand. That you do write, and that 
pretty often, I know beforehand. Elae why do I read '! The 
Examiner " ? 

We were in Paris from October to May (I perpetually flying 
between that city and London), and there we found ont, by a 
blessed accident, that your godson was horribly deaf, I imme- 
diat«ly consulted the principal physician of the Deaf and Dumb 
Institution there (one of the best aurists in Europe), and ho 
kept the boy for three months, and took unheard-of pains with 
him. He is now quite recovered, has done extremely well at 
school, has brought home a prize in triumph, and will be eli- 
gible to "go up" for his India examination soon after next 
Easter. Having a direct appointment, ho will probably be sent 
out soon after he has passed, and so will fall into that strange 
life " up the country," before he well knows he is alive, 
which indeed aeems to be rather an advanced stage of know- 

And there in Paris, at the same time, I found Marguerite 
Power and Little Nelly, living with their mother and a pretty 
sister, in a very small, neat apartment, and workiug (as Mar- 
" » told t ... - - 

f sfTaeton 


effaet on me and every one, and the admirolion thereof, grows 
oa tm the more I observe this curious fact. 

Kate and Ucorgina send you their kindest loves, and emile 
approvingly on me from the next room, as I bend over my 
d«4k. 3Iy dour Landor, you Bee many, I dare say, and hear 
from many, i buve do doubt, who love you heartily ; but we 
lilent peoplti in the distance never forget you. Do not forget 
U3, and let ua exchange aSection at least, 

Ever your admirer and friend. 



Snwrday Niglil, July 5, ISM. 

"SIt dear Dpke of Devonshire, — From this place where 
I am writing my way through the eummer, in the midst of 
nuy gnnleiis and eea aire, I cannot forbear writing to tell you 
*iUi what UQComioon pleasure I received your interesting letter, 
uul how seuaible I always ain of your kindness and generosity. 
Vuu were alway§ in the mind of my household during your ill- 
una; and to have so beautiful, and fresh, and manly an asaur- 
mw of your n?covery from it, under your own hand, is a 
pirilege and delight that I will say no more of, 

I ani so gliid you like Flora. It came into my head one day 
Out wt have all liad our Floras, and that it was a half-serious, 
b»l^rillicul"lls truth wiiich had never been told. It is a won- 
iWnl gmljfication to me to find that everybody kcows her. 
Indeed, »ome people seem to think I have done thera a personal 
|l injnij, and that Uicir individual Floras (God knows where they 
hi <n, or who !) are each and all Little Durrits. 

W« were all grievously disappointed that yon were ill when 

|iUyod Mr. fJolUns's " Liglilho\ise " at my house. It you 

il*(in well, I should have waited upon you with my humble 

tbat you would come and see it; and if you had come 

)u would have cried, which would have charmed me. 

produce another play at home next Christmas, and if 

ily pofBUade yon to see it from a special arm-chair, and 

make you wretched, my satisfaction will be intense. 

lo Itfguile a moment, of a little " Tag," ot en\ 

■" ■■•■ faria tbia last winter, whkK stTOtV. ma 

PBiet 1 

jie piccb vu 1 


new one, but a revival at the Vaudeville — " 1*3 M^moires 
du Diable." Admirably constructed, very interesting, and 
extremely well played. The plot is, that a certain JL Robin 
has come into possession of tlie papers of a deceased lawyer, 
and finds some relating to the wrongful withholding of an 
estate from a certain baroness, onil to certain other frauds (in- 
volving even the denial of the marriage to the deceased baron, 
and the tarnishing of his good name) which are bo very wicked 
that he binds them up in a book and labels them " Miimoires du 
Diable." Armed witli this knowledge he goes down lo the 
deaoiatjj olil chiitoau in the country — part of the wrested'awaj 
estate — from which the l^ronees and her daugliter are going 
to be ejected. He informs the mother that he can right her 
and restore the property, but must have, as his reward, her 
daughter's hand in marriage. She replies : " I cannot promise 
my daughter to a man of whom I know nothing. The gain 
would l>e an unspeakable happiness, but I resolutely decline the 
bargain." The daughter, however, haa obsen-ed all, and she 
comes forward and sayg : " Do what you have promised my 
mother you can do, and I am yours," Then the piece goes on 



a n(iccssniy Imrgnin with you ; I release you from it. 
e lioiie wlint I undertook to do. I wish you and jour 
ible diiughUr all ha|ipiiieaa. Adieu ! I take my leave." 
Bnvs biniiielX out. People on the stage astoiiished. Audience 
■stonished — ina-nsed. The daughter ta going to cry, when 
the louka at the box on the table, reiuembeiii the hell, nms 
U> it and rings it, and he rushes back and takes her to his 
heart ; Djton whieh we all cry with pleasure, and then langh 

This looks dreadfully long, and perhaps you know it alreudy. 
I( 60, I will Budeavour to make amends with Flora in future 

llts. Dickens and her sister heg to present their reuem- 
fanouses to your Grace, and their congratulations on your recoF- 
«y. 1 saw Paxton now and then when you were ilJi and 
tlvaya received from him raos^t encouraging accounts. I don't 
know how hcnvy lie is going to be (I meim in the scale), but I 
begin to think Daniel Lambert must have been in his family. 
Ever your Grace's faithful and obliged. 


Tavistock IIoc)ie, Lobook, July 5. 1868. 

Mt drab Irvijiii, — If you knew how often I write to you 

iiulividiwlly nnd personally in my books, you would he no more 

rarprisnl iii seeing this note than you were in seeing me do my 

r by that flowery julop (in what I dreamily apprehend to 

^beea a former state of existence) at Baltimore. 

1 you let mo preBent to you a cousin of mine, Mr. B , 

) associated with a merchant's house in New York ? Of 
! lie wants to see you, and know you. How can / wonder 
it Uwt ? How enn ntiybody ? 

I htd a long talk with Leslie at the last Academy dinner 
(btviug previously Won with him in Paris), ami he lold me 
ttiU you were floariehing. I Buppoee you know that he wears 
t OOTBliiphi! — BO do I for the matter of that, and a heard loo 
—ami dint he looks like a portrait of Don Quixote. 

House has four-and-twenty youthful pages in \t tvw« 
; my lord, and twelve for my lady, rM tvo tXct^gj- 
k-g up tmder hia chair all dinner-lime, b.t\4 \«iigi'w* 
^■^^ " hoetess goes. No wheeled c\vQ.\t T^i'B* 


amootbly in with that beaming face in it ; au<l 's little cot- 

toD pocket-liandkercliief helped to make (I believe) this very 
sheet of paper, A half-sad, half-ludictous story of Rogers is idl 
I will sully it with. You know, I dare say, that for a year or 
po before his death he wandered, and lost himself like one of 
the Children in the Wood, grown up there and grown down 
again. He had Mrs. Procter and Mrs. Carlyle to breakfast with 
him one morning — only those two. Both excessively talkative, 
very quick and clever, and bent on enttTtaining him. When 
Mrs. Carlyle had flashed and shone before him for about throe 
quarters of an hour on one subject, he turned his poor old eyes 
on Mrs. Procter, and pointmg to the brilliant discourser with 
his poor old finger, said (indignantly), " Who is she ? '' Upon 
this, Mrs. Procter, cutting in, delivered (it is her own story) a 
neat oration on the life and writings of Carlyle, and enliglitened 
him in her happiest and airiest manner ; all of which he heard, 
staring in the dreariest silence, and then said (indignantly, as 
before), " And who are you ? " 

Ever, my dear Irving, 

Most affectionately and truly yours. 

Fli,\SK 8T0KE, A. It. A. 27 

joa ! Thia is as pretty and oJJ a little French country -house 
u «ould he fuuii<I BDjwIiere ; and the gardens are most beautiful. 
In "HooachoM Worda," next week, |>ray read "Tlio Diiiry 
of Anne Rodway " (in two not long parte). It la by Collins, 
uitl I think possesses gr^at merit and real pathos. 

Being in town the other day, I saw Gye by accident, and told 

, when he praised to me, that efae was a very liad 

" Well 1 " said lie, " i/ou may say anything, hut it any- 
y else hod told me that I sliould have stared.*' Neverthe- 
1 impreaaion from his manner that she hod not 
n a prulitable speculation in respect of money. That very 
t (lay Stantield and I dined alone together at the Garrick, 
i drank your boalth. We had bsid a tide by the river before 
r (of course he would go and look at boats), and had been 
Hdng of y>iu. It was this day week, by the bye. 
1 know of nothing of public interest that ia new in France, 
Wpt that 1 am changing my nionstsche into a board. We all 
Km] our most tender loves to dearest Miss Macready and all the 
house. The Hararay boy is particularly ansioua to have hia 
lore tent to " Miar Creedy." 

Evor, my dearest Macready, 

Most affectionately years. 


TiLLA nf-A MoCLHiKAox. Boirt.oaMe, 

W«(lneiil«y, Blh Jnlv, 1866. 

AH Stoke, — I have got n capital part for you in the 
a difficult one to learn, as you never say anything but 
d " No." Vou are called in the dramatis perganee 
llble-boilief] British seaman, and yon are never seen by mor- 
■ «ye to do anything (except inopportnncly producing a mop) 
i about the deck of the boat in everybody's way, with 
II hair immensely touzled, one brace on. your hands in your 
""" 'i, and the liottoms of your trousers tucked up. Yet you 
*" inmtricably connected with the plot, and are the man whom 
'"ifybody is iniiuiring after. 1 think it Is a very whimsical 
ttaad extremely droll. It made me laugh heartily wl\o& \ 
Mted it all down ycstonhy. 

?J^ my Moim to all yours. 




Tiu-t DES MonjKuiJX, Bouloorc, 

SuDdi.v, Jul? 13, ISM. 

Mt dear Collixh, — We are all sorry that yon are not 
coming until the middle of neit month, but we hope that yon 
\rill then be able to remain, so that ws may all come hack to- 
gether about the 10th of October. I think (recreation allowed, 
etc.) that the play will take that time to write. The ladies of 
the dram. pen. are frightfully anxious to get it under way, 
and to see juu locked up in the pavilion ; apropos of which 
noble edifice I have omitted to mentiou that it is made a more 
secluded retreat than, it used to be, and is greatly improvexl by 
the pofiition of the door being changed. It is aa eniig and as 
pleasant as possible ; and the Genius of Order has made a few 
little improvements about the house (at the rate of about ten- 
pence apiece), which the Genius of Disorder will, it is hoped, 

I think I must come over for a small spree, and to fetch you. 


week I eketcbed out the nution, c)iaracters, and progress of the 
force Hud sect it off to Mark, who has been ill of an Ague. It 
ougUt to be very funay. The uat btiiiinesB is too ludivrous to 
be treated of in ko small a sheet of pB)H;r, so I must describe 
it rivii voce when I come to town, French hoa been so iiiauf- 
ferably conceited since he abot tigerish cat Na 1 (intent on tlie 
noble I>ick, with green eyes three inches in advance of her 
head), that I am afraid I ^all have to part with him. All the 
buyii likewise (iu new clothes and ready for church) are at this 
tustAnl prone on Iheir stomachs behind bushes, whooshing and 
CTjing (after tigerish cat 3so. 2) : "' French ! " " Here she 
comes ! " " There she goes ! " etc, I dare not put my head out 
ol window for tear of being shot (it is as like a coup d'etat as 
potsible), and tradesmen coming up the avenue cry pkintively : 
" Sa tiiei jMs, Monsieur Fleench ; c'est moi — boulanger. ^s 
tint pu, mon ami." 

Likewise I shall have to recount to you the secret history of 
a robbery at the Pavilion at Folkestone, which you will have 

Tell Piggot, wlien you see him, that we shall all be much 
pltttted if he will come at bis own convenience while you are 
We, And slay a few duye with us. 

I Nliall have more than one notion of future work to suggpst 
to fou while we are beguiling the dreariness of an arctic winter 
in these iwrte. May they prosper I 
Kind regards from all to the Dramatic Poet of the establish- 
IfUid to the \y. P.'s mother and brother. 

Ever youra. 

^H^'S- — If the "Flying Dutchman" should be done ngain, 
P9 do gu and see it, Webster ejcpressed hia opinion to me 
'^ it was " a neat piece." I implore you to go and see a neat 

BocLOCKB, Thursday, Augiut 7, 18M, 
Mt dkab Wills, — I do not feel disposed to tocotA \WaB 
'w'Clisnceiy cnsee ,- Urstljr, because I would nitVier W\ft t»o 
^ffg^t^^^^-t^^a ai/ad of any human cteatoM, BiYwsva- 


And EOconUly, because it seems to me that the real philoiio- 
(jhy of the facta is altogether missed in the narrative. The 
wrong which chanced to be aet right in these two casus wa« 
done, -as all such wrong is, mainly because these wicked courts 
of equity, with all their tneans of evasion and postponement, 
(•ive scoundrels confidence in cheating. If justice were cheap, 
Fura, and speedy, few such things could be. It is because it 
has become (through the vile dealing of those courts and the 
vermin tliey have called into existence) a positive precept of 
experience that ii man had better endure a great wrong than go, 
or suffer himself to be taken, into Chancery, with the dream of 
setting it right. It is because of this that such nefarious spec- 
ulations are made. 

Therefore I see nothing at all to the credit of Chancery in 
these cases, but everything to its discredit. And as to owing it 
to Chancery to bear tostimony to its liaving rendered justice in 
two such plain matters, I have uo debt of the kind upon my 
In haste, ever faithfully. 


n toim last Saturday, I weut to see Ro1>Gon in a bur- 
" Medea." It is an odd but perfectly true testimony 
Ehe extraordinary power of his performance (which i» of a 
veiy remarkable kiud indeed), tbat it painta the bodnosa of 

'b actiog ill a moat singular mannBr, by bringing out what 

she might do and does not. Tbe scene witli Jasoa is perfectly 
Unific ; and the manner iu which the comic rage and Jenlousy 
doea not pitch itself over the floor ut tbe stalla is in striking 
cnntimt to the manner in which tbe tragic rage and jealoiicy 
does. He ha^ a frantic song and dagger-ilauce, about ten nsin- 
Dtw long allogctber, which has more passion in it than— — 
could espresa in fifty years. 

Wb all unite iu kindest love to Mias Macready and all your 
ii«r onua ; not forgetting my godson, to whom I send his god- 
EUbeKs particular love twice over. Tbe Hammy boy is so 
n that you would scarcely know him. 

Ever, my dear Macready, alTectionately yours. 


Tavibtopr HoUsr, SnmlBj Miirajng, 

Mr DEAR WiLl.8, — T suddenly remember this morning 
Uul in Mr. Curtis'a article, "Health and Education," 1 left a 
liiii> wbic.h must come out. It is in eU'ect that the want of 
Wtij training leaves girls in a fit Btate to bo tbe subjects of 
Wennieriion, J would not on any condition hurt ElUotson's 
twiings (as I should deeply) hy leaving that depreciatory kind 
>f nfcrcnce in any page of " H. W." He bas suffered quite 
Bimigh without a stub from a friend. So pray, whatever the 
iMWiveniciioe niay be in what Bradbury calls " tbe Friars," 
":i lliflt passage out. By some extraordinary accident, after 
ning it, I forgot to do it. 

Ever faithfully. 


T*YiBTOCK Hoi'SE. SaturiUj, Oclolwt *, 1&36. 
. Mt nitAB TAaxet, — Tbe preparations for Ihc ^\a'j mc 
^«lfr iDgsBitiag. aad it m eiiWslcned (tliia ia a greAt draTOal^o 
' ' '^ ^ J'O" *;now alr^dy) " Tbe ¥toien ~ 


Tell Katey, with my best love, that if she fail to come lack 
six times oa red, hungry, &uil strong as she was when she neat 
away, I shall give her part to somebody else. 

We shall all be very glail to see you both back again ; when 
I say " we '' I include the birds (who send their respectful duty) 
and the Plorn. 

Kind regards to all at Brighton. 

Ever, my dear Mamey, your afieutional« father. 


Tavijitock House, Tucaday. October 7, ISM. 

Mt dear Mks. Watson, — I dut writ* it for you ; and I 
hoped in writing it, that you would think so. All those re- 
meiiibraaces are fresh in my mind, as they often are, and gave 
me an extraordinary interest in recalling the past. I should 
have been grievously disappointed if you had not been pleased, 
for I took aim at you with a moat determiued intention. 

Let me congratulate you most heartily on your handsome 
Eddy having iJasseJ his examination with such credit. I a 


and already the sclioolrooiu is iii the hands of carpenters ; men 
fmm undergrouml Labilations in theatres, who look as if they 
lit^ entirely upon amoke and gas, meet me at unheard-of houra 
Mr. Stanfield b perpetually measuring the hoards with a chalked 
piece of string and an umhrella, and all the elder children are 
wildly punctual and buaineselike to attract managerial commen- 
dation. If you don't come, I ehall do something antagonietic 
— try to uniTrite No. 11, I think. I should particularly like 
you to see a new and seriou.i piec« eo done. Because I don't 
think you know, without 6e«ing, how good it ia ! ! ! 

None of the children suffered, thank God, from the Boulogne 
rialt. The three little boys have gone back to school there, and 
ara all well. Kat»y came away ill, but it turned out that she 
had the whooping-cough for the second time. She has been to 
Brighton, and comes home to-day. I hear great accounts of her 
tad hops to find her quite well when she arrives presently. I 
■m afraid Mary Boyle has been praising the Koulogne life too 
bUdy. Not that I deny, however, our having passed some 
very pleasant days together, and our having had great pleasure 
in her visit. 

You will object to me dreadfully, I know, with a beard 
(though not a great one), but if you come and see the play, you 
will find it necessary there, and will perhaps be more tolerant 
ol the fearful ohject afterwards. I need not tell you how 
deligiiled we Bho\Ud be to see George, if you would come 
Uigelher. Pray tell him so, with my kind regards. I like the 
ootioo of Wentworth and his philosophy of all things. I re- 
number a philosophical gravity upon htm, a ittate of suspended 
opinion as to myself, it struck me, when we last met, in which 
~^An]£ht there was a great deal of oddity and character. 

f is doing very weU at Baring's, and attracting praise 

1 to himself. Within this fortnight there turned up 

~ ' " where he is now a chief justice, an old 

;, of my own age, who lived with me in lodgings 

li, when I was just Charley's age, He had a 

Iffection for me at that time, and always supposed I was 

ine sort of wonders. It was a very pleasant meeting 

i ht) Beemcd to think it so odd that I ahQu\&i^V \i«> 

itom ofno-netra that will come oul oi m^ \v«a&T 
'""" "* "^ aJl I have in it — «xca^V "" ""*" 


oobhier ftt Boulogne, who bad the nicest of little dogs, tbat 
always sat in his sunny window watchiug him at work, a^ked 
me if I would bring the dog home, as he could n't aiford to pay 
the tax for him. The cobbler and the dog being both my 
particular friends, I complied. The cobbler parted with the dog 
baart-brokcR. When the dog got home here, my man, like an 
idiot as he is, tied bim up and then untied him. The moment 
the gate was open, the dog (on the very day after his arrival) 
ran out. Ii'oxt day, Goorgy and I saw him lying, all covered 
with mud, dead, outside the neighbouring church. How am I 
ever to tell the cobbler 1 He is too poor to come to England, 
so I feel that I must lie to him for life, and say that the dog is 
fat and happy. Jlr. Plomish, much affected by this tragedy, 
said: "1 a'pose, pa, I ehall meet the cobbler's dog" {in 

Gcorgy and Catherine send their best love, and I send mine. 
Pray write to mo again some day, and I can't be too busy to ha 
happy in the sight of your familiar band, associated in ray mind 
with so much that I love and honour, 

my dear Mrs. Watson, most faithfully yours. 


Ate thew Ibe tone* — 

Ko. Again it seems doubtful. 


Can that be the name ? Fond memory favours it more than 
any other. Mj love to her. 
^ Ever, my dear SIra. Homo, very faithfully yours. 

to ...^— >» 

^^^TJt peab DtJKE OF DnvoNSitiRE, — The moment the first 
bill is printed for the first niglit of the new play I told you of, 
I send it to you, in t!ie hope that you will grace it with your 
Iimsencc. There t9 not onfl of the old actors whom you will 
fail to inspire us no one else can ; and I hope you will see a 
little result of o friendly onion of the arts, that you may think 
worth seijing, and that you can see nowhere else. 

We propose repeating it on Thnrstlay, the 8th ; Monday, the 
12th -, Knd Wednesday., the 14th of January. I do not iucum- 
ber tfaia note with bo many bills, and merely mention those 
nights in case any one of them should be more convenient to 
you tbaii the first. 

But 1 shall hope for the first, unless you dash me (N. B. — 
I put FInm into the current number on purpose that this might 
dteli yon soft«iie<l towards me, and at a disadvantage). If there 
t« hop« of your coming, I will have the play clearly copied, and 
will wnd it to yon to read beforehand. With the most grateful 
Tvtae rubra nces, and the sincerest good wishes for your health 
ud happiness, 
_I am ever, my dear Duie of Devonshire, 

Your faithfal and obliged. 



Tatibtock Housk, Wednesdaj', Derember 3, IS56. 

My dear MiTTON, — The inspector from the fire-office — 
I BQrvcjor, by the bye, they called him — duly came. WUU 
I described him aa not very pleasatit in his manners. I derived 
I the impresKiun that he was eo esccediiigly dry that if ke ever 
s lire, he muBt burn out, and can never otherwise be extin- 

Next day, I received a letter from the secretary, to skj that 
I the said surveyor had reported great udditional risk from fire, 
I and that the directors, nt their meeting next Tuesday, would 
settle the extra amount of premium to be paid. 

Thereupon I thought the matter was becoming complicated, 
I and wrote a common-sense note to the secretary (which I begged 
1 might be read to the directors), saying that I was quite prepared 
I to pay any extra premium, but setting forth the plain state of 
(I did not say that the Lord Chief Justice, the Chief 
I Baron, and half the Bench were coming ; though I felt a temp- 


we sbnll be cordially glad to aee him 1 I hope to intruBt him 
with a special shake of the lianJ, tt> he forwaMed to our dear 
bo; (U a hoary eage like myeelf may venture on that expression) 
by the next mail 

I would have proposed the first night, but that is too full. 
You may fointly iinagiQe, my venerable friend, the occupation 
<rf these also grey hairs, between " Golden Marys," " Little 
Dorrila," " Household Wordsea," four sti^e-carpentere entirely 
iNXinliug on the premises, a carpenter's ehop erected in the back 
guden, siie always boiling over on all the lower lires, Stanfield 
perpetually elevated on planke and splashing himself from head 
to foot, Telhin requiring impossibilities of smart gas-men, and a 
legion of prowling nondescripts for ever shrinking in and out. 
Cain tunulst the wreck, your aged friend glides away on the 
" Dorrit " stream, forgetting the iiproar for a stretch of hours, 
nfmhefi himself with a ten or twelve miles walk, pitches head- 
set into foaming rehearsals, placidly emerges for editorial 
I, smokes over buckets of distemper with Mr, Stuufield 
said, ^ain calmly floats upon the " Dorrit " wat-ers. 
'' With very best love to Miss Macready and all the rest, 

Ever, my dear Macready, most affectionately yours. 


Tavistock Hobsk, December IS, I8M. 
Mt drab Mabgitehite, -^ I am not quiu clear about the 
rtory i not because it is otherwise than exceedingly pretty, but 
because I am rather in a difficult position as to stories just now. 
Ue^des beginning a long one by Collins with the new year 
(which will last live or six months), I have, as I always have 
ftt this time, a considerable residue of stories written for the 
Christmas number, not suitable to it, and yet available tot 
, tlu general purposes of " Household Words." This limits my 
• for the moment to stories that have some decided special- 
ir a great deal of story) in them. 

it I will look over the accumulation before yon come, and 

• yon will never see your little friend again but in print. 

Ton will find us expecting you on the night ot the IweiA^- 

luuTth, and heaiiiif glad to wefconie you. The most U^rAt 

■ vAraia buui for the pliy on Twelfth 15 ight. t\iB» 

t «iop in (he garden lor six fi'sfSi 


painter's shop in the schoolroom; a gas-fitter's shop all oyer 
the basement ; a dressmaker's shop at the top of the house ; a 
tailor's shop in my dressing-room. Stanfield has been inees- 
santlj on scaffoldings for two months ; and your friend has 
been writing '^ Ldttle Dorrit," etc., etc, in comers, like the 
sultan's groom, who was turned upside down by the genie. 
Kindest love from all, and from me. 

Ever affectionately. 


Tavistock Housb, Christmas Ere, 18S6. 

My dear Sir, — I cannot leave your letter unanswered, 
because I am reaUy anxious that you ^ould understand why I 
cannot comply with your request. 

Scarcely a week passes without my receiving requests from 
various quarters to sit for likenesses, to be taken by all the 
processes ever invented. Apart from my having an invincible 
objection to the multiplication of my countenance in the shop 
windows, I have not, between my avocations and my needful 
recreation, the time to comply with these proposals. At this 
moment there are three cases out of a vast number, in which I 
have said : " If I sit at all, it shall be to you first, to you sec- 
ond, and to you third." But I assure you, I consider myself 
almost as unlikely to go through these three conditional achieve- 
ments as I am to go to China. Judge when I am likely to get 
to ^Ir. Watkins! 

I highly esteem and thank you for your sympathy with my 
writings. I doubt if I have a more genial reader in the worid. 

Very faithfuUy yours. 

cccxrn. sir jaxes exersox texxext 

Tavistock HorsK» Janaaiy 9, 1897. 

My dear Texxext, — I miist thank you for your earnest 
and affectionate letter. It has given me the greatest pleasure, 
mixing' the play in my mind confusedly and delightfully with 
Pisa, the Valetta. Naples, Herculanseum — God knows what not. 

As to the plar itself ; when it is made as good as my care 
can make it. I derive a strange feeling out of it, like writing a 
lH>jk in company ; a satisfaction of a most singular kind, which 



D exaot parallel in ray life ; a Bomething that I suppose to 

; to the life of a labourer in art aloiie, and which lias 

Dviction of its being actual truth irithout its pain, 

I sever could adequately state if I wore to try never bo 

t7ou touch so kinOly and feelingly on the pleasure such little 
puns give, that 1 feel quite sorry you have ikever seen this 
drama in progress during the last ten weeks here. Every Mon- 
day oud Friday evening during that time we have been at work 
npiia it. I assure you it has been a remarkable lesson to my 
vouug people in patience, perseverance, punctuality, and order ; 
and, be«t of all, in that kind of humility which is got from the 
tsaniiKt knowWlge that whatever the right hand finds to do must 
be done with the heart in it, and in a desperate earnest. 

>ATi«n I changed my dross last night (though I did it very 
quickly), I was vexed to find you gone. I wanted to have 
secured you for onr greenroom supper, which was very pleasant. 
If hy any accident you should he free next Wednesday night 
{our last), pniy come to that greenroom supper. It would give 
IDD Gonlial pleasure lo tiave you there. 

Ever, my dear Tenncnt, very heartily jours. 


Tavutook Bousk, Monday Nigbt, 

Jiuuary IT, 18&T. 

Mr DEAR Cerjat, — 80 wonderfully do good (epistolary) 

i&tunCion* bi'come confounded with bad execution, that I osBure 

jou I laboured under a jJeifect and most comfortable conviction 

that 1 had answered your Christmas Eve letter of 1855. More 

than thai, in spite of your assertions to the contrary, 1 still 

tlKuaously l-elieve that I did sol I have more than half a 

mind (" T,!)tlp IJorrit " and my other occupations nolwithstond- 

" ■ ' ■ ■' i-T" you with having forgotten my reply!! I have 

: i.ira that Townshend reproached me, when the last 

■ new, with writing to you instead of lo him ! 1 ! 

_;!•■ il unt, as well as we can argue anything without 

: Haldimand, when I come back to Elysi^c, \n Kn'3 

tam.'hovevKT. Ooa'e dieeoatlnae your annual letter, \«caAiae \\. 


IWith one of the prettiest houses in London, and every con- 

Ivable (and inconceivable) luxury in it, Townshend is vohiu- 

Bily undergoing his own sentence of ttauspgrtation in Kervi, a 

^stly little place near Genoa, where you would as soon find 

Bierd of wild olephantB in any villa as comfort. He has a 

I tliat he must be out of England in the winter, hut I 

e liim to be altogether wrong (as I have just told him in 

Better), unless he could just take his Fociety with him. 

|WorkmeD are now battering and smushing down my theatre 

whRre we have just been acting a new play of great merit, 

in what I may call (modestly speaking of the getting-up, 

I not of the acting) an unprecedented way, I believe that 

ptliing 80 complete has never been seen. We had an act at 

p North Pole, where the slightest and greatest thing the eye 

E equally taken from the books of the polar voyagers. 

■t of thirty people, there were certainly not two who might 

; have gone straight to the North Pole itself, completely 

jnished for the winter ! It has been the talk of all London 

I these three weeks. And now it is a mere chaos of scaffold- 

;, ladders, beams, canvases, pauit^pots, sawdust, artificial snow. 




The lady I had allotted to me to take down to dinner yesterday 
begna to speak of that neigh boucbood. ' You kjiow it ? ' I said ; 
. 'J. hove beeu there to-dEy.' ' O yes,' said she, ' I know it very 
I was a child there, in the house Ihey uill Gad's Hill 
My father was the rector, and lived there miuiy years. 
I has just died, has left it to nie, and I want to eoll it.' 
^So,' s»ya thu sub-editor, ' you must Imy it. Sow or never I ' " 
I did, and hope to pass next aumnier there, though I may, 
petliaps, let it afterwards, furnished, from lime to time. 

All about myself I lind, and the little aheet neatly full I 
t I know, my dear Cerjut, the auhjeot will have ita interest 
I give it its awing, Mrs, Wataon was to have been 
e play, hut most unfortunately had three children sick of 
ic fever, and could not leave them. She was here some 
I mysks before, looking extremely well in the face, but 
r thin, I have not heard of your friend Mr. Percivol 
, but I much miadoubt an amateur artist's success in 
ILis vaat place. I hope you detected a remembraocp of our 
happy visit to the Great St. Bernard in a certain number of 
*' Little Dorrit " ? Tell Jlrs. Ccrjat, with my love, that the 
opinions I have expressed to her on the subject of cows have 
become matured in my mind by experience and venerable age ; 
and that I denounce the race as humbugs, who Iiave been 
getting into poetry and all sorts of places without the smallest 
reajon. Haldimand'a housekeeper ifi an awful woman to con- 
iiiJcr. I'ray give him our kindest regards and remembrances, if 
you ever find him in a mood to take it, " Our " means Mrs. 
Uickena's, Georgio's, and mine. We often, often talk of our 
oU days at Lausanne, and send loving regards to Mrs. Cerjat 
d ill your house. 

Adieu, my dear fellow ; ever cordially yours. 


T4VWT0CK llousE, Wwlneidir. Jaimnrx 38. 1861. 

M» DRAB B[7i.WEK, — I thought Wills had told you as to 

tot Gtiild (for I begged hirn to) that ho can do absolutely 

Mfting until our charter is seven years old. It is the B\.rai?,«i\, 

Mdwprea prohibitioa of the Act of rarliament — lot wV\t\>, 

iJ^/oa moiaben. tbaak God, are responsiWe, ani uot 1- 

frred thia claase (which was just as we vuetft %Q\a% | 


to grant a pension, if we could agree on a. good subject), I 
caused our counsel's opinion to bo taken on it, and there is uot 
a doulit about it, I immediatelj recommended that there 
should be no expenses — tliat the interest on the capital should 
be all invested aa it accrued — that the chambers should be 
given up and the clerk discharged — and that the Guild should 
have the use of the " Household Words " office rent free, and 
the services of Wills on the samo terms. All of which was 

A letter is now copying, to be sent round to all the members, 
explaining, with the New Year, the whole state of the thing. 
You will receive this. It appears to me that it looks whole- 
some enough. But if a strong idiot comes and binds your 
hands, or mine, or both, for seven jears, what is to be done 
against him ? 

As to greater matters tlian this, however, — as to all matters 
on this teeming Earth, — it appears to me that the House of 
Commons and Parliament altogether is just the dreariest failure 
and nuisance that has bothered this much-bothered world. 


b it on any considemtioa. 

3 Bgiun. 

aver get such a woodm 
Ever affectionately. 


TAriBTOCK HaoBE, February 7, 186T. 
r DKAE Maby, — Ilolf a dozen words ou this, my birth- 
I thank yon for your kind and welcome remenibrance, 
ssBure you that your Joseph is proud of it. 
r about ten niiuutea after his dcatb, on each occasion of 
tbat event occurring, HicbaiJ Wardour was iu a tloorcd con- 
dition. And one night, to the great terror of Devouahire, the 
Aretio Eegioua, and Newfoundland (all of which localities were 
•fnid tc speak to liiiu, as his gbost sat by the kitchen fire in 
ite ragH), he very nearly did what be never did, went and 
fainted oS, dead, again. But he always plucked up, on the turn 
of ten miniilcs, and became facetious. 

Likewise he chipped great pieces out of all his limbs (solely, 
as I imagine, from nioml tiamcBtness and conL'ussion of passion, 
for I never knew bini to hit himself in any way) and terrified 
Aidersley ' to that degree, by lunging at him to carry him into 
the cave, Ihot the Niid Aldersley always shook like a mould of 
jelly, and muttered, " iJy G — , this ia an awful thing I " 

Ever affectionately. 

p, S. — I shall nevci 
g been there. 

: to regret Mrs. Watson's not 


T-iviaif-CK HuKBE, Sunday, February 8, 1867. 

Mt OBA& White, — I send theee lines by Mary and Kaley, 
(otepnrt my love to alL 
" r note about the Golden llary gave me great pleasure ; 
K'' I don't believe in one [«irt of it ; for 1 honestly believe 
our eUiTj, it£ really beloiiginjj to the rest of the narrative, 
xn generally separated from the other storifis, and greatly 
I had not that particular shipwreck that you me^iUoii 
n wy mind fiod**^ I doabt if I know it), and John SteaiHrnM-a 
eJjiki lujr bead as h stanch s.irt of uamo iWl kuVMiA 
« J)erp by itti nuthur, Mi, Williie Co\\\a«. 


the cbaractar. The number has dime " Household Words " 
great service, scd h&s decidedly told upon its circulation. 

You should have come to the play. I much doubt if any- 
thing BO complete vill ever be 9e«n again. An incredible 
amoont of pains and ingenuity was eipended on it, and the 
result was most remarkable even to nie. 

When are you going U> send .'^mething more to " H. W." ? 
Are you kzj- ? ? Low.£pirit«d ? ? ? Fining for Paria ? ? ? ? 
Ever affoctiouately. 


GuvESE!(i>. Kkht, lOtb April, IIS!. 
Dear Uadah, — As I am away from London for a few 
days, your letter haa been forwarded to me. 

I can honestly encourage and assure you that I believe the 
depression and want of confidence under which you describe 
yourself as labouring to have no Eufficient foundation. 

First aa to " Mr. Arle." I have constantly heard it spoken 
of with great approval, and I think it a book of considerable 


"TTougehold WorJs." If you should do bo, I asBure you I 
I sliall be happy to read it myself, and that I shall have a Bmc«re 
I de«ire to accept it if possible. 

1 can give you no better counsel than to look into the life 
I about yon, end to strive for what is nohlest and true. Ab to 
^—Jutber encouragement, I do not, I can most strongly add, be- 
^^BtoB Ihst you hare any leaaon to be downhearted. 

I ..... 


GRATRSKHn, KcKT, Wpdneidsy. April IS, 18ST. 
Ct dear Lord Caklislg, — I am writing by the riveraida 

lor a few days, and at the end of last week appeared her 

with your note of introduction. I was not in the way ; but as 

had come express from London with it, Mrs. Dickeua 

opened it, and gave her (in the limited sense which was of uo 
OK U> her) an audience. She did not quite seem to know what 
■he wantt^ of me. But she said she had understood at Htat- 
lonl House that I had a theatre in which she could read ; with 
a good deal of modesty and diffidence she at last got so far. 
Now, my little theatre turns ■my bouse out of window, costs 
fifty pounds to put up, and is only two months taken down ; 
Biarefore, is quite out of the question. This Mm. Dickens ex- 

pUined, and olso my profound inability to do anything for 

mdings which they could not do for themselTee, She appeared 
lolly to underatand the explanation, and indeed to have antici- 
I«l«d for herself how powerleas 1 must be in such a ease. 

8ho dfscrihed herself as being consumptive, and as being 
mliject to an effusion of blood from the lungs ; about the last 
mdition, one would think, poor woman, for the exercise of 
inMic elocution as an art. 
Between ourselves, I think the whole idea a mistake, and 
Ihought so from its first announcement. It has a fatal 
ic» of trading upon " Uncle Tom,'* and am I not a man 
■Wthar ? which yoa may be by all means, and still not 
'thd tmalleet claim to my attention as a public reader, 
town b overread from all the white BquMea o^ ft\« 
^wigM-bourd ; it bas been considerably banned from tiW Wa 
T"*^ ■T''^ '*' *"' "^ °'^ banjos, and now -wWa 
X have a very strong Ito^toskio\v 


{hat it is by no means to be laid hold of from tbb point of 
address. I m jself, for example, am the meekest of men, and in 
abhorrence of slavery yield to no bantaa creature, and yet I 
don't admit the sequence that I want " Uncle Tom " (or Aunt 
Tomasina) to expound " King Lear '* to me. And I believe 
my case to be the case of thousajids. 

I trouble you with Ibis mncb about it, because I am natu- 
rally desirous yon sfaoold understand that if I could possibly 
have been of any service, or have suggested anything to this 
poor lady, I would not have lost the opportunity. But I can- 
not help her, and I assure you that I cannot honestly encourage 
her to hope, I fear her enterprise has no hope in it. 

In your absence I have always followed you through the 
papers, and felt a personal interest and pleasure in the public 
affection in which you are held over there.' At the same time 
I must confess that I should prefer to have you here, where 
good public men seem to me to be dismally wanted. I have 
no sympathy with demagogues, Init am a grievcu.'; Radical, and 
think the political signs of the times to be just about as bad as 
the spirit of the people tnll admit of their being. In all nthet 



ir, I Lave so many mattera preesing on my attention, 

I cannot turn lo it immediately on my release from my 1>ook 

finialied. It sliall bo done and distributed early nest montii, 

to anything being lost by its not being in tbe hands of the 

who dine (aa yon aeem to think), 1 have not the least 

ving on that score. They would say, if it were issued, 

Justwhat tbey will say without it. 

Lonl tiraovillc is committud to taking tbe chair, and will 
niaka the liest speech bo can in it. The pious — — will eram 
taut witli aa many distortions of the truth as his stomach may 
be rtrong enough to receive. , with Bardolphian elo- 
quence, will cool Ilia nose iu the modest merits of the institu- 

^an. will make a neat and apptopriato epcoch on both 

lida, round tbe coriit-r and over the way. And all this would 
bo ilono exiiclly to the same purpose and in juat the same strain, 
if twejily lUonaond copies of tbe pamphlet hiid been oircidated. 
Ever affectionately, 


TAVismcx n<ni»e, Friday, May M, IMT. 
Mt l>EAR White, — My emancipation having been effected 
uii Saturday, tho nintii of this month. I take some shame to 
miaelf for not having sooner answered your nole. But the 
Ik»1 of things to Im done as soon as I was free, and the tremen- 
iloi» number of ingenuities lo be wrought out at Gad's Hill, 
lavn kept me in a whirl of their own ever since. 

Wn purpose going to Gad'a Hill for the summer on the 1st 
id June ; av-, apart from tlio master's eye being a necessary oma- 
luat to the spot, I clearly see tlmt the workmen yet lingering 
in tkn yard must be squeezed out by bodily pressure, or they 
er go. How will this suit you and yours ? If you 
e down, we can take you all in, on your way north ; 
I aay, we sbnll have that ample verge and room enough, 
jnt the eighth; when Hans Cliristian Andersen (wbo 
" coming " for about three years) will come for a forl^ 
.. k itny in England. I shall like you to sec the little old- 
'' Wdonul place. It strikea me as being comfortaHe, 
J<i ]a mo know j'oiiT little gnme. And with \oVft "w "SiVtB. 
, Bod CImts, 

i.erfiZ affectioiiate\y yowvB. 



Tavibtock Hoobb, Salnrdsy Horning, Miv 30, 18ST, 

Deae Madam, — I read your story, with all poBsiHc atten- 
tion, last night. I cannot tell you with what reluctance I write 
to you respecting it, for my opinion of it ia not favourable, 
although I perceive your heart in it, and great strength. 

Pray imderataad that I claim no iufallihility. I merely 
expresw my own honest opinion, formed against ray earnest 
desire. I do not lay it down as law for others, though, of 
course, I believe that many others would come to the same con- 
clusion. It appears to me that the story is one that cannot 
possibly be told within the compass to which you have limited 
yourself. The three principal people are, every one of them, 
in the wrong with the reader, and you cannot put any of them 
right, without making the story extend over a longer space of 
time, and without anatomising the souls of the actors more 
slowly and carefully. Nothing would justify the departure of 
; but her having some strong reason to believe that, in 



Lastly, I fear she is too convulsive from beginning to end 
Pray rwcpnsiiier, from this point of view, her brow and her eyes, 
and her drawing henieH up to hai full height, mid her being a 
perfumod presence, and lier floating into rooms, also her asking 
people how they dare, and the like, on BmaU provocation. 
Vrlien she heare her music being played, I think slie ia particu- 
Urly objectionable. 

I have a strong belief thiit if you keep thia story by you 
three or four years, you will form an opinion of it not greatly 
differing from mine. There ia so much good In it, so much 
nftectioD. so much pussion and eameetnesa, that, if my judg- 
ment bp right, I fi;d sure you will come over to it, On the 
other hand, I do not think that its publication, as it stands, 
would do you service, or be agreeable to you hereafter. 

I have no means of knowing whether you are patient in the 
punuit of this art ; but I am inclined to think that you are not, 
tad that yon do not discipline yourself enough. When one is 
impdlcd to write this or that, one has still to consider : " IIow 
much of this will tell for what I mean ? How much of it is 
my own wild emotion and superfluous enetgy — how much re- 
muns that is truly belongiitg to this ideal character and these 
idttj circnmsttfnci^s ? " It is in the laborious struggle to make 
tlds lUatinftioR, and in the determination to try for it, that the 
»wrl to the porrecliou of faults lies, (Perhaps I may remark, 
in 8«iiport of the sincerity with which I write this, tlmt I am 
to impitient and impulsive person myself, hut that it has been 
for niuiy years the constont effort of my life to practice at my 
JmIi what I preach to you.) 

1 «bouId not have written s 
iJaA letter to me. It aeci 
|f Inie with you, and 1 an 
u either way. 

much, or so plainly, hut for 
3 to demand that I should be 
so in this letter, without any 

Very faithfully yours. 


iNK 8T0SK, A. B, A, 


MoDiliy, June 1, 165T. 
i VBAB Sto.vb, — T know that what I am go'mg lo m.^ 
]gAi 4g«ijwWe ,- bat I rely on tba authoreaii'B gDcA, mu»\ 


These " Notes " are destroyed by too much aioartnoss. It 
gives the appeiirance of perpetual effort, stabs to the heart the 
nature that is in them, and wearies by the manner and not by 
the m.itter. It is the commouest fault in the world (as I have 
constant occasion to observe here), but it is a very great one. 
Just as you could n't bear to have an epergne or a candlestick 
on your table, supported by a light figure always on tiptoe and 
evidently in an impossible attitude for the sustainment of ita 
weight, so all readers would be more or leas oppressed and wor- 
ried by this presentation of everything in one smart point of 
view, when they know it must have other, and weightier, and 
more solid properties. Airiness and good spitita are always 
delightful, and are inseparable from notes of a cheerful trip; 
but they shotild sympathise with many things as well as see 
them in a lively way. It ia but a word or a touch that ex- 
presses this humajuty, but without that little embellishment of 
good nature there is no such thing as humour. In this little 
MS. everything is too much patronised and condescended 
to, whereas the slightest touch of feeling for the rustic who is 
of the earth earthy, or of sisterhood with the homely servant 


anjrtluDg of that pleasure to another by showing it from 
tie limilod point only, and that point, observe, the one 
which it is impossible to detach tbo exponent as the 
patroDCBs of a whole universe of inferior souls. This ia what 
eTCjybody would mean ia objecting to these notes (supposing 
them to be published), that they ore too smart and too flippant. 
As I understood this matter to be altogether between us 
three, and a» I think your confidence, and heni, imposes a duty 
of friendsh-ip on me, I discharge it to the best of my ability. 
I'erbaps I make more of it than you may have meant or ex- 
pocted ; if so, it is because I am interested and wish to express 
il. If there had been anything in my objection not perfectly 
fiasy of removal, I might, aft«r all, have hesitated to state it ; 
but Uiat ia not the case. A very little indeed would make all 
this gaiety as sound and wholesome and good-natured in the 

Kir's mind ns it is in the writer's. 
T nRAR , — Coming home here last night, from a 

ivf's business in London, I found your most excellent note 
iwaiting me, in which I have had a pleasure to be derived from 
Drme hut good and natural things. I con now honestly assure 
ymi tlint I believe you will write trell, and that I have a lively 
Ikipo that I may be the means of showing you yourself in print 
(IOC day. Your powers of graceful and Ught-hBurted observa- 
tiim need nothing but the little touches on which we are both 
agreed. And I am perfectly sure that they will l>e as pleasant 
to yoa as to any one, for nobody can see so well as you do, 
frithont feeling kindly too. 

To confess the trntli to you, I was half sorry, yesterday, that 
I had bcpn so unreserved ; but not half as sorry, yesterday, as 1 
glad to-day. You must not mind my odding that there is a 
andour and modesty in your note, which I shall never 
to separate fiom you henceforth. 

A^ectionately youre aXwo,^*. 



Gad's Hill. Silardar, Jnne S, 186T. 

My dkar Henrt, — Here is a very eerioua business on the 
great estate respecting the water supply. Last night they had 
pumped tbo well dry merely in raising the family supply for the 
day ; and thia morning (very little water having been got into 
the cisterns) it is dry again ! It is pretty clear to me that we 
must look the thing in the face, and at once bore deeper, dig, or 
do some beastly thing or other, to secure this necessary in aban- 
dancG. Meanwhile I am in a most plaintive and forlorn condi- 
tion without your presence and counsel. I raise my voice in 
the wilderness and implore tbo same ! ! ! 

Wild legends are in circulation among the servants bow that 
Captain Goldsmith on the knoll above — the skipper in th&t 
crow's-nest of a house — has millions of gallons of water always 
flowing for him. Can ho have damaged my well ? Can we 
imitate bim, and have our millions of gallons ? Goldsmith or 
I must fall, : 


It^tber, and were there on a Siui<]ay, he wnuld give ua the 
irbole Exhibition to ouraelvea. It is jtrobable, I think (as he 
Bstimatea the receipts of a uight at about eevea hundreil poiuule), 
tbit Wt) may, in nbout a fortui^ht or so after the reading, play 
"The Froroa Deep" at Slunchoster, But of tliia contingent 
(ngtgenient I at present know no more than you do. 

How, will you, upon this expoeitioii of affairs, choose your 
tffB tiiae for coming to ua, and, when you have made your 
ebncVi write to am at Gad's Hill ? I am going down this 
■Ilsinoon for rest (which means violent cricket with the hoya) 
dler laat Saturday night ; which was a teaser, hut triumpliaut. 
The 8L Slnrtia's Hall audience was, I must confess, a very ex- 
tnordinary thing. The two thousand and odd pooplo were like 
OUe, and their enthusiasm was something awful. 

i'et 1 have seen that before, too. Your young remembrance 
eumot recall the man; but he flourished in my day — a great 
Ktar, fdr — a noble actor — thorough artist ! 1 have seen him 
do wonders in that way. He retired from the stage early ia 
life (hnving a moQomaniaca) deluaioa that he was old), aud is 
Mid U) he still living in your county. 

Ail jotD Id kindest lore to your dear sister and all the rest. 
Ever, my dearest Macready, 

Most afiectioiiatel; yours. 



Tavistock H'iusb. Sondjiy, July 19, 1857. 

' OBAB Yateb, — Although I ilntc this ashore, I really 
write it from Southampton (don't notice this fact in your reply, 
fcr I fthall be in town on Wednesday). I have come here on 
ta ftrraml which will grow familiar to you before you know 
that Tirou has flapped his wings over your head. Like me, you 
»iD find those bobifs grow to he young men before you are 
I qvile wre they are born. Like me, you will have great teeth 
duwi) with a wrench, and will only then know thai you ever 
dl them. I nm here to send Walter away over what they call, 
I Oraen Bush nialodramns, " the Big Drink," and I don't at 
■U know this day how he comee to be mine, or T his, 

1 don't writo to mj this—or to eay how seeing CWi\e^ auA 
- —'- f.*^f^J^J>^of ^ me just now, 1 8m\dcn\s camt 


twenty, and also into a euapicion that I had doubled the last 
age. I merely write to mention that Telbin and hia wiJe are 
going down to Gad's Hill with ue, about midday next Sunday, 
and that if you and Mrs. Vates will come too, we shall be 
delighted to have you. We can give you a bed, and you can 
be in town (it you have such a savage necessity) by twenty 
minutes before ten on Monday morning. 

I waa very much pleased (as I had reason to be) with your 
account of the reading in " The Daily News," I thank you 



KiOENT Sthrkt, TbuDHla;, Jkily 90, 1S6T. 

My dear Mr. Cooke, — I cannot rest satisfiod this morn- 
ing without writing to congratulate you on your admirable pet- 
formance of last night. It was ao fresh and vigorous, so manly 


We shall go down in the old pleasant way, find shall have 
the Art Treasurea Exhibition to ourselves on the Sunday; 
when even ■' he " (as Rogers always called every pretty woman'a 
husband) might come and join us. 

What do you say ? What does he say ? and what does haby 
»y? When I use the term "baby," I use it in two tenses — 
piGsent and future. 

Answer me at this address, like the Juliet I saw at Drury 
Lane — when was it ? — yesterday. And whatever your answer 
ia, if you will say that you and Compton will meet us at the 
North Kent Station, Loudon Bridge, next Sunday at a quartet 
hefOK one, and will come down here for a breath of sweet air 
■nd stay all night, you will give your friends great pleasure, 
Sot leEst amnng them, Yours faithfully. 

cccxxxv. W, ' 

Mt DEAKEst Macreadt. — I write to you in reference to 
|DUr Ittst note, as soon as 1 positively know oui final movements 
in the Jerrold matter. 

We are going to wind up by acting at Manchester (on solemn 
nquisitton) on the evenings of Friday and Saturday, the Slat 
ud 22d (actresses sulistitutei,! for the girls, of course). We 
eluvll have to leave here or the rooming of the 20th. You 
thought of coming on the 16th ; can't you make it a day or two 
s&rlier, so as lo be with us a whole week ? Decide and pro- 
Donnce. Again, cannot you bring Katey with you ? Decide 
■nil pronoonce thereupon, also. 

I read at Manchester last Friday. As many thousand people 
were there as you like to name. The collection of pictures in 
the Exhibition is wonderfuL And the power with which the 
mudem Knglish acliool asserts itself is a very gratifying and 
ilidichtful tiling to behold. The care for the common people, 
ia the provision :nade for tlieir comfort and refreshment, is also 
adninble and worthy of all commendation. But they want 
owte amusement, and particularly (as it strikes me) aompjtklng 
■ »n, thoagh it were only a twisting fount^un. 1\va tVm^ 
a/ after Uieir lives of niachfaery, and art fiiea o\ ei tt»Mi 

1 56 


I hope you have seen my tuaale with the " Edinburgh." I saw 
I the chauce last Friday week, as I was going ilown to read the 
" Carol "* in St. Martin's Hall, loatantly turned to, then and 
1 there, and wrote half the article. Flew out of bed early neit 
Imorning, and finished it by noon. Went down to Gallery of 
I Illustration (we acted that night), did the day's buetneEfl, cor- 
Irocted the proofs in polar costume in dressing-room, broke up 
numbers of "Household Words" to get it out directly, 
Iplayed in " Frozen Deep " and " Uncle John," presided at sup- 
Iper of company, made no end of sjwechea, went home and gave 
■ II completely for four hours, then got sound asleep, and next 
Iday was as fresh as you used to be in the far-off days of your 
I lusty youth. 

All here send kindest love to your dear good sister and all 
he house. Ever and ever affectionately. 


Tavutock Houbb, Sundaj' MteTBOon, Aagnst 9, tSST. 
' DEAR Stone, — Now here, without any prefac 


,*. S. — If yon play, I shall immediately fttmounce ill to all 
eenied. I? you dan't, I sliall go on aa if nothing hod hap- 
d, and shall eay nothing to any one. 


Gao'b Hill I'lai-e, Salurdny, Anguet 15, 18BT, 
TMy pbab Hesby, — At last, I am happy to inform you, we 
■TC gut at a famous spring 1 1 It ruehuil in this Dioming, ten 
"»t deep. \iid our friends talk of its supplying "a ion a 
minnt* for yourself and your family, air, for nevermore," 

They ask leave to bore ten feet lower, to prevent the pos- 
ability of what they call "a choking yrith sullage." Likewise, 
they are going to insert " a tose-headed pipe ; " at the mention 
of whii;h implement, I am (secretly) well-nigh dietracted, having 
uo idea of what' it means. But I have said " Yes," besides in- 
Etaatly standing a bottle of gin. Can you come back, and can 
you get down on Monday morning, to advise and endeavour to 
decide on the mechanical force we fihall use for raising the 
water? I would return with you, as I shall have to be in 
town until Thursday, and then to go to Manchester until the 
following Tuesday. 

I asad this by hand to John, to bring to you. 
■ Evei ~ 


G.iD's Hill, Monflsy. Aueust II, 18.W. 

Mt riEAE Stoke, — I received yotir kind note this morning, 
and write this reply hfre to take to London with nie and post in 
town, being bound for that village and three days' drill of the 
professional ladies who are to succeed the Tavistock girls. 

ity liook I inclose. There is a slight alteration (which does 
not aiFect yoii) at the end of the first act, in order that the 
piece may be played through without having the drop-cnrtain 
dnwn. You will not find the situntioDs or busineea difficult, 
with me on the spot to put yon right. 

Now, a!i to the dreea. You will want a pair of p\im^, au^ a 
p«r of white ajlkaocifl; titese j-ou can gel nt MancWatet. T\»R 

■snjgtui/yr jwrf meiently trilled shirts that 1 tavG\\ai %qV m'^ 
■^f/lgfltnU bring yoa down; large white W8asteoa\.,W\SS 


liDg you down ; large white hat, I will bring you down ; dress- 

■g-gown, I will bring you down ; white gloves and ditto choker 

lu can get at Manchester. There then remain only a pair 

1 common nankeen tights, to button below the calf, and blue 

Mlding-coat. The nankeen tights you had \>eet get made at 

" Uncle John " coat I will send you down in a parcel 

' to-morrow's train, to hare altered in Manchester to your 

Upe and figure. You will then be quite independent of Chri»- 

e and Jewish Nathan, which latter [xitentate is now 

I Canterbury with the cricket amateurs, and might faiL 

I A Thursday's rehearsal is (unfortunately) now impracticable, 

3 for the railway being all made out, and the company's 

'dera issued. But, as I have already suggested, with a 

reful rehearsal on Friday tnoming, and with me at the wing at 

Ight to put you right, you will find yourself sliding through it 

Lsily. There is nothing in the least complicated in the business. 

s to the dance, you have only to knock yourself up for a twelve- 

mtb and it will go nobly. 

I After all, too, if you should, through any unlucky break-down, 

a before, if I 


uisa let, whereas I might have done it at first, etc., etc., 
Having do desire hut for the success of our object, and a 
cognition on my part of the kind Manchester pub- 
k cordiality, I gave way, and thought it beat to go on. 
I do so against the grain, and against every inclination, and 
" BBt the strongest feeling of gratitude to you. My people at 
bane will be miaerabte too when they heai I am going to do it. 
If X could have heanl from you sooner, and got the bill out 
sooner, I should have been firmer in considering my own neces- 
sity of relief. As it is, I sneak under ; and I hope you will feel 
the reasona, and approve. 

Ever affectionately. 


^V- Gad's Hill Pl.A<-e, Vfedaetiij. September 3, ISST. 

My dear Henry, — The second conspirator has been here 
this morning to ask whether you wish the windlass to be left in 
the yard, and whether yon will want him and his mate any 
mora, nnd, if so, when ? Of course he says (rolling something 
in the form of a fillet in at one broken tooth all the while, and 
rolling it out at another) that they could wish fur to have the 
wHndUaa if it war n't any ways a hill conwenience fur to fetch 
hat away. I have told him that if be will come back on Friday 
he ftliall have your reply. Will you, therefore, send it me by 
return of post ? He says he '11 " look up " (as if he was an 
BBtronntner) " a Friday arterdinner." 

On Monday I am going away with Collins for ten days or a 
fnrtnight, on a " tonr in search of an article " for " Household 
Words." We have not the least idea where we are going ; but 
Ae aaya, " Let 'a look at the Norfolk coast," and / say, " Let 'a 
look at the bnek of the Atlantic." I don't quite know what 1 
tnosa by that ; hut tiave a general impression that I mean some- 
thing knowing. 

I am horribly used up after the Jerrold business. Low 
»pirit#, low pulse, low voice, intense reaction. If I were not, 
likp ^[r, ^ticawber, "falling lack for a spring" on Monday, I 



Allonbt, Cumberland, Wednesday Kight, September 9, 18S7. 

My dear Grorgt, — Think of Collins's usual luck witb 
me ! We went up a Cumberland mountain yesterday — a huge 
black hill, fifteen hundred feet high. We took for a guide a 
capital innkeeper hard by. It rained in torrents — as it only 
does rain in a hill country — the whole time. At the top, 
there were black mists and the darkness of night. It then cama 
out that the innkeeper had not been up for twenty years, and 
he lost his head and himself altogether ; and we could n't get 
down again ! What wonders the Inimitable performed with his 
compass until it broke with the heat and wet of his pocket, no 
matter ; it did break, and then we wandered about, until it was 
clear to the Inimitable that the night must be passed there, and 
the enterprising travellers probably die of cold. We took our 
own way about coming down, struck, and declared that the 
guide might wander where he would, but we would follow a 
water-course we lighted upon, and which must come at last to 
the river. This necessitated amazing gymnastics ; in the course 
of which performances, Collins fell into the said water-course 
with his ankle sprained, and the great ligament of the foot and 
leg swollen I don't know how big. 

How I enacted Wardour over again in carrying him down, 
and what a business it was to get him down ; I may say in 
Gibbs's words : " Vi lascio a giudicare ! '* But he was got 
down somehow, and we got off the mountain somehow ; and now 
I carry him to bed, and into and out of carriages, exactly like 
Wardour in private life. I don't believe he will stand for a 
month to come. He has had a doctor, and can wear neither 
shoe nor stocking, and has his foot wrapped up in a flannel 
waistcoat, and has a breakfast saucer of liniment, and a horrible 
dabbling of lotion incessantly in progress. We laugh at it all, 
but I doubt very much whether he can go on to Doncaster. It 
will ]ye a miserable blow to our " H. W." scheme, and I say no- 
thing about it as yet ; but he is really so crippled that I doubt 
the getting him there. We have resolved to fall to work to- 
morrow morning and begin our writing ; and there, for the 
present, that point rests. 

This is a little place with fifty houses, five bathing-machines, 

had be. 
fiaoit ii 


five girls in straw liate, five tdsq in straw hats, and no otbei 
oominD]'. Tlie little houacs are nil in lialf-mouming — yellow 
Bloue on white stone, and black ; and it reminde me of what 
Broadatairs migbt have been if it had not inherited a clilT, imd 
bad been an Irishman. But thin Ib a capital little boniely inn, 
tag oot npon the sea ; and we are really very comfortably 
I can juat stand upright in my bedroom. Otlierwiee, 
B giwd deal like one of Ballard's top rooms. We have a 
ihU{(lDg and comfortable landlady ; and it is a clean nice 
igh wild country. We came here haphazard, but 
oould not have done better. 

We lay last night at a place called Wigton — also in half' 
mouming — with the wonderful peculiarity that it had no popu- 
lation, no business, no streets to speak of ; but five linen-drapers 
within range of our small windows, one linen-draper's next door, 
antl fire more linen-drapers round the comer. I ordered a night- 
li|;tit in my bedroom. A queer little old woman brought me 
one of the common Child's night-lights, and seeming to think 
UuU I looked at it with interest, said : " It 's joost a vara kee- 
thing, air. nnd joost new coom oop. It '11 burn awt 
a' end, an no gontther, nor no waste, nor ony aike a thing, 
can creedit what I say, seein' the airticle." 
coarse / shall go to Doncaster, whether or no (please 
find), nnd my postage directions to you remain unchanged. 
LoTe to Mamey, Katey, Charley, Harry, and the darling Plorn. 
Ever affectionately. 


LaBOUtbr, Saturday Night, ScptcmbcT 13, 186T. 

Mt MtAK Geobot, — I received your letter at AUonby yes- 
t4TdiiT, and waa delighted to get it. We came back to Carlisle 
'i-tt rii'l.t fto a capital inn, kept by Breach's brother), and came 
'r,,\ . We are on oiir way to Doncaster ; but Sabliath 
■ i.rowa all the trains out ; and although it ia not a 
,11 from here, we shall linve, aa well as I can make 
.. . i^ii'licaled lists of trains, to sleep at Leeds — which I 
MiUrly detest as an odious place — to-morrow night. 
Aeen*lom«I Jt» .roo are to the IjomagB whicli men ii*^V\?\\V \o 
~" ^*P' 'fa Inmittb le, yoa would be scarcely prepateA Iot V\m!i 

'" northera country. Slaliou-Taaa- ' 


t«rs assist hiro to alight from ;:amage8, deputations await him in 
hotel entries, innkeepers bow down before him and put him into 
regal rooms, the town goes down to the platform to see him off, 
I and Gollina'a ankle goes into the newspapers I ! I 

a great deal batter than it was, and he can get into new 
liotela and up the stairs with two thick Eticke, like an admiral in 
a farce. His spirits have improved in a corresponding degree, 
and ho contemplates cheerfully the keeping house at Doncaster. 
I I thought (as I told you) he would never have gone there, but 
i quite up to the mark now. Of course he can never 
walk out, or see anything of any place. We have done our 
first paper for " H. W.," and sent it up to the printoi'E, 

The landlady of the little inn at Allonby lived at Greta 

I Bridge, in Yorkshire, when I went down there before 

" Nicklehy," and was smuggled into the room to see me, when 

I I was sec e 1} f und out. She is an immensely fat woman now. 

' But I ould t k my arm round her waist then, Mr. Dickens," 

I the landl d sa d when she told me the story as I was going to 

e n ^ht before last, " And can't you do it now/' I said, 

n n 1 le dog ? Look at me ! Hero 's a pietur 



e tbe (Isrliog Plorii, who is often in my thoughts. Best 
o Charley, Hiimey, and Katin. I will write to you ftgain 

B Donca^ter, where I shall bu rejoiced to find another letter 


Ever ftffectionately, my dearest Georgy. 



TuesdA)-, Sr{itcmbcr la, ISfiT. 

My drab Geor'it, — I found your letter here on my 
arrival yeeterday. I hod hoped that the wall would have been 
almost (inished by tliis time, and the additioDB to the house 
almost Kuisheil, too — but patience, patience ! 

We hare very good, dean, and quiet apartmonte hero, on the 
focond lloor, looking ijown into the main street, which is full of 
Wm^jockeys, betters, dmnkarda, and other blackguards, from 
tnomitig to night — and all night. The races begiu to-duy and 
l«at till Friday, which is the Cup Day. I am not going to the 
GOime this morning, hut have engaged a carriage (open, and 
pair) for l^morrow and Friday. 

" The Frozen Deep's " author gets on as well as could he 
•tpect«d. He can hobble up and down stairs when absolutely 
UMeAsaiy, and limps to his bedroom on the same floor. He 
tallLB of going to the theatre to-night in a cab, which will be the 
iint occasion of bis going out, except to travel, since the acci- 
dent. Ho sends his kind regards and thanks for inquiries and 
Ooadoienc«. I am perpetually tidying the rooms after hira, and 
onTiog all sorta of imtidy things which belong to him into hia 
bedroom, which is a picture of disorder. You will please to 
iinagiue mine, airy and clean, little dressing-room attached, eight 
vat«r~jug8 (1 never saw such a supply), capital sponge-bath, 
pBifect ttrrangement, and exquisite neatness. We breakfast at 
lulf-pa«t eight, and fall to work for " H. W." afterwards. Then 
I ffi out, and — hem I look for subjects. 

The mayor called this moniing to do the honours of the 
itnni, irbam it pleased the Inimitable to receive with great 
CDUtes)' «ind affability. He propounded invitation to ^ii\j\\R 
Jijpuimr, which it did not pleaae the Inimitable to tecewe, oui 


tleBcti\>6 V17 \vM 


by crook, I describe for "H. W," 9o there is nothing of that 
Hort left for letters. 

Best love to deur Mamey and Kntey, aad to Charley, and to 
Harry. Any number of kisses to the noble Plom. 

Ever affectionately. 


TAVisTorK House, Sundiv, Juiuary IT, I35S. 

My dear Wilkie, — I am very sorry to receive so W an 
account of the foot. But I hope it is all in the past tense now. 

I met with an incident the other day, which I think is a good 
deal in your way, for introduction either into a long or ehort 
atory. Dr. Sutherland and Dr. Monro went over St. Luke's 
with me (only last Friday), to show me some distinctly and 
remarkably developed types of insanity. Among other patiento, 
we passed a deaf and dumb man, now afflicted with incurable 
mndueas toi^ of whom they said that it was only when hia mad- 
ness began to develop itself in strongly marked mad actions, 
that it began to be snajjected. " Though it had been tber 


' atitntiou) "took vrith fits." For this diatreBsing complaint he 
was medicaliy treated ; the doctor " collared him, and laid him 

on his hack u]iou the airy atones " 
fallows — "and she wa* told, to e 

please to ohaervo what 
id, his 'owls 


That is to say, Mm. Harris, lying exhacsted on her bed, in 
the first sweet relief of freedom from pain, merely covered with 
IhB coonterpane. and not yet '' put conifortahle." hears a noise 
appiiicDtly proceediii}! from the tock yard, and says, in a flushed 
and hysterical manner ; " What 'owls are those ? Who is a 
'gwling 7 Not my ngebond ? " Upon which the doctor, look- 
ing round one of the bottom posts of the bed, and taking Mrs. 
Harris's pulse in a reassuring manner, says, with much admirable 
pTveence of mind : " Howla, my dear madam ? — no, no, no I 
What are we thinking of ? Howls, my dear Urn. Harris ? 
lis, hn, ha ! Organs, ma'am, organs. Organs in the streets, 
Mra. Harris j no howls." 

Yours faithfully. 


TaviHT'iCK HodSB, Tuesday. Fobnuuy 2, 1858. 

Mt ueab THACKaHAT, — The wisdom of Parliament, in 
that expensivu act of its grentneaa which constitutes the Guild, 
ptohihtts thnt corporation ffiym doing anything until it shall 
have existed in a perfc.>clly nseless condition for seven years. 
This clause (introducMl by some private-bill magnate of official 
adgbt) sermed so ridiculous, that nobody could believe it to 
have this mo«ning ; but as I felt clear about it when we were 
on the very verge of granting an excellent literary annuity, I 
tefortod the piint to counsel, and my construction was confinned 
vithoat a doubt. 

It iar tburt'fore needless to inquire whether an association in 
th* nalun- of a provident society could address itself to such a 
o^ M you confide to me. The prohibition has still two or 
lhi«« yaars of life in it. 

Bat assuming the gentleman's title to be considered ns an 
*'autliot'' aa established, there is no question that itcomftft-w^Wm 
■he ioope of the Literarp FiuuL They would hnhitvittW^ " Yc-ni" 
\,'ii tb»ji did what I aoaaiiier to be their duty -, u Vb w* 
'give it in such ' 


I have forwarded the envelope to the Society of Arts, with a 
request that they will present it to Prince Albert, approaching 
H. B. H. in the Siamese manner. 

Ever faithfully. 

Tavistock Houas, Wednesdiv Night, February 3, 1S5B, 

Mt deab Forster, — I beg to report two phenomena : — 

1. An excellent little play in one act, by Marston, at the 
Lyceum ; title, " A Hard Struggle ; " as good as " La Joie fait 
Peur,'" though not at all like it. 

2. Capital acting in the same play, by Mt. Dillon. Real 
good acting, in imitation of nobody, and honestly made out hy 
himself ! ! 

I went (at Marston'a request) lust night, «nd cried till I 
sobbed again. 1 have not seen a word about it from Oxenford. 
But it is as wholesome and manly a tiling altogether as I have 
seen for many a day. (I would have given a hundred pounds 
to have played Mr, Dillon's part.) 



na, and expn^^ing such natural aiul vigorous sentiment, 
raly one thing I sbould havR liked liim to clinnge. I 
am much mistaken if any man — iMst of all any such man — 
wonld cruah a letter written by the hand of the woman he 
loved. Hold it to his heart unconsciously and look about for it 
the while, he might ; or he might do any other thing with it 
that flxpreesed a hubit of tenderness and affection in association 
with the idea of her ; but he would never crush it under any 
cireiitnstanccs. He would as soon crush her heart. 

Vou will see how closely I went with him, by my minding 
BO slight an incident in so hnc a performance. There is no one 
who could approach him in it ; and I am bound to add that he 
Eurprised me as much as he pleased me. 

I think it might be worth wliile to try the people at the 
Ften^ais with the piece. They are very good in one-act plays ; 
BUch plays take well thert?, anil this seems to me well suited to 
Ihem. If you would like Samson or Eegnier U) rend the play 
(in English), I know them well, and woiUtl he very glad indeed 
la tell them that I sent it with your sanction because I had 

KBO much struck by it. 

Faithfully yours always. 

tAnsTOCti HoL'SE, I^Ntioii. W. C, ThurBii^y, February 11, 185S. 

f DRAR Reonier, — I want yon to read the inclosed lit- 
You will see that it is in one act — about the length 
'' Ia Joie fnit Peur." It is now acting at the Lyceum 
here, with very great euceess. The author is Mr. 
land Marston, a dramatic writer of reputation, who wrolo 
f well-known tragedy called "The Patrician's Daughter," 
' "i Macready and Miss Faucit acted (under Macready's 
■einent at Drury Lane) some years ^o. 
a little pipce is so very powerful on the stage, its interest 
hmple and natural, and the part of Eeuben is such a very 
■1*^ that 1 cannot help Uiinking you might make one grand 
■ ^ it, if with your skilful hand yoti arranged it for the 
I have communicated this idea of mine U> ttio nuftuM, 
ojije vau/i 4iris." \ am anxious to ktioii ^out o^wv- 
!/ oxp^t mtb much interest to leceWe a \\U\e \«ttfc^ 
mr coave-nicnce. 


Mrs, Dickens, Miss Hogarth, and all the bouse send a thou- 
sand kind loves and regards to Madame Reginer and the dear 
little boya. You will bring them to London when you come, 
with all the force of the Fninijais — will you not ? 

Ever, my dear Kegnier, faithfully your friend, 


Tavibto(7K Hodbe, Salurday, Febnur}- SO, 1S58. 

Mr DEAR Regniek, — Let me thank you with all my heart 
for your most patient and kind letter. I made its contents 
known to Mr. Marston, and I inclose you his reply. You will 
see that ho cheerfully leaves the matter in your hands, and 
abides by your opinion and discretion. 

You need not return his letter, my frienil. There is great 
excitement hero this morning, in consequence of the failure of 
the Ministry last night to carry the bill they brought in to 
please your Emperor and his troops. I, for one, am extremely 
glad of their defeat. 

~ "I have no doubt, will go staggering 


i^miMnng to me that it is not at this day ten times as large and 

rich as it is. But I hope and trust tiiat I have happily heen 

able to give it a good thrust onward into a great course. We 

all send onr most affectionate love to all the house. I am 

devising all sorts of things in my mind, and am in a state of 

energetic restlessness incomprehensible to the calm philosophers 

of Dorsetshire. What a dream it is, this work and strife, and 

how little we do in the dream after all I Only last night, in 

my deep, I was bent upon getting over a perspective of barri- 

en, with my hands and feet bound. Pretty much what we are 

ill about, waking, I think ? 

But, Lord I (as I said before) you smile pityingly, not bitterly, 
it tluB hubbub, and moralise upon it, in the calm evenings 
vhen there is no school at Sherborne. 

Ever affectionately and truly. 


Tavistock House, Tavistock Square, London, W. C, 

Wednesday, April 14, 1858. 

Ht dear Mbs. Hockje, — After the profoundest cogitation, 
I come reluctantly to the conclusion that I do not know that 
orphan. If you were the lady in want of him, I should cer- 
tainly offer myself. But as you are not, I will not hear of the 

It is wonderful to think how many charming little people 
there must be, to whom this proposal would be like a revelation 
from Heaven. Why don't I know one, and come to Kensing- 
ton, boy in hand, as if I had walked (I wished to God I had) 
oat of a fairy tale ! But no, I do not know that orphan. He 
is crying somewhere, by himself, at this moment. I can't dry 
his eyes. He is being neglected by some ogress of a nurse. I 
can't rescue him. 

I will make a point of going to the Athenaeum on Monday 
night ; and if I had five hundred votes to give, Mr. Macdonald 
should have them all, for your sake. 

I grieve to hear that you have been ill, but I hope that the 
spring, when it comes, will find you blooming with the rest of 
the flowers. 

Very faithfully yours. 

1 Nieoe to tlie Rev. W. Harnem. 




WpdDesday, April 88, 1868. 

My dear Yates, — For a good many years I have Buffered 
a great deal from chfttities, but never nnythjng like what I 
suffer now. The amount of correspondence they inflict upon 
me ia really incredible. But this is nothing. Benevolent men 
get behind the piers of the gates, lying in wait for niy going out; 
and when I peep shrinkingly from my study windows, I see 
their pot-l>ellied shadows projected on the gravel. Benevolent 
bulliea drive up in hansom cabs {with engraved portraita of 
their benevolent institutions hanging over the aprons, like ban- 
ners on their outward walls), and stay long at the door. 
Benevolent area sueaks get lost in the kitchens, and are found 
to impede the circulation of the knife-cleaning machine. My 
man ba^ been heard to nay (at The Burton Arms) " that if 
it was a ■wicious place, well and good — fhiif ain't door work ; 
but that wen all the Christian wirtuea is always a shoulderin' 


At this present moment I am on my little Kentish freehold 
{not in t«[i-boot3, and not particularly jitejudiced that I know 
of), looking on as pretty u view out of my study window as you 
will find in m long day's English ride. My little place ie a grave 
red brick house (time of Georgo the First, I suppose), which I 
have oddeil to and stuck bits upon iu all manner of ways, so 
that it ia as pleasantly irregular, and as violently oppoaed to all 
archit«ctund idea*, as the most hopeful man could posaiUy de- 
sire. It U on the summit of Gad's Hill. The robhery was 
committed before the door, on the man with tlie treasure, and 
ITaletaff ran away from, the ideuticul spot of ground now covered 
by the room in which I write. A little rustic alehouse, called 
3Si8 Sir John Faletaff, is over the way — has been over the 
W^Tf ever since, ia honour of the event. Cobham ^Voods and 
Fuic 9IB behind the house : the distant Thames in front ; the 
Xsdway, with Rochester, and ite old castle and cuthedrBl, on 
one side. The whole stupendous property is on the old Dover 
Bead, so when you come, come by the Korth Kent Kailway (not 
tbe South-Eastem) to Stiood or Higham, and I '11 drive over 
to tetch you. 

The blpssed woods and fields have done me a world of good, 
t»l I am quite myself again. The children are all as happy aa 
eWldrcD can he. My eldest daughter, Mary, keeps house, with 
I Btute and gravity hecomuig that high position ; wherein she 
it usisted by her sister Katie, and by her aunt Georgina, who 
ia,iiud always has been, like another sister. Two big dogs, a 
Uoodhound and n ^t, tternard, direct from a convent of that 
Dune, where I think you once were, are their principal attend- 
•nli in thf green Innes. These latter instantly untie the neck- 
■Rhietc of all tramps and prowlers who approach their presence, 
« Uut they wander about withont any escort, and drive big 
luxBca in basket-phaetons through murderous hye-ways, and 
uvflt come to grief. They are very curious about your dnngh- 
!•», and send all kinds of loves to them and to Mrs Cerjat, in 
■hicli I heartily join. 

Vuu will have read in the papers that the Thames in London 
k mart horrible. I have to cross Waterloo or London Bridge 
tagBt to tho railroad when I come down hore, and I can CBtVW^ 
^ the offensive smella, even in that short whiff, \\ttva \«ieti. <A 
ia«/-*jd-«(oaiaoi-difltendiiig nature. "SoAioAy \i.Tvff«a 
^*ij 'ereiyljodjr knows a p\au,anOL o^^ct^- 


body else knows it won't do ; in the mean time cart-loads of 
cliloride of lime sre shot iuto the filthy stream, and do some- 
thing, I hope. You will know, before you get this, that the 
American telegraph line has parted again, at which most men 
are Borry, but very few surprised. This is all the news, except 
that there is an Italian Openi at Vmry Lane, price eighteen- 
pence to the pit, where Viardot, hy far the greatest artist of 
them all, singe, and which is full when the dear opera can't 
let a Imx ; and except that the weather has been exceptionally 
hot, hut is now quite cool. On the top of this htU it hai he«n 
cold, actually cold at night, for more than a week past. 

I am going over to Rochester to post this letter, and must 
write another to Townshend before I go. My dear Cerjat, I 
have written lightly enough, because I want you to know that 
I am becoming cheerful and hearty. God blesa you 1 I Iovb 
you, and I know that you love me. 

Ever your attached and allectioitate. 



Por " Mra. Gamp aud the Boots," to-night, we hove also a very 
promising let. But the races are on, and there are two public 
holla to-ui^ht, and the yacht squadron arc all at Cherbou^ to 
boot, Arthur io of the opinion that ■■ Two Sixties " will do 
very wvll for us. I doubt the " Two Sixties " myself, Mais 

The room is a very handsome one, but it is on the top of a 
windy aud muddy hill, leading (lil«rHlly) to nowhere ; and it 
looks (except that it is new and mortnnj) as ii tiip subsidenee 
ot the waters aft«r the Deluge might Lave left it where it is. I 
have to go right througii the company to get to the platform. 
Big dootE slam and resound when anylwdy comes in ; and all 
ttw company seem afraid of one another. Nevertheless they 
were a acn^ble audience last night, and much impressed end 

Ttacy is in the room (wandering about, and never finishing a 
Kutence), and sends all manner of sea-loves to you and the dear 
gtila. 1 send all manner of land-loves to you from myself, out 
<A my heart of hearts, and also to my dear Plorn and the boys, 
Arthur aenda hie kindest love. He knows only two oharac- 
ten. He is either always corresponding, like a Secretary of 
Stit«, or he is transformed into a rout-furniture dealer of Rath- 
Flace, and drags forms about with the greatest violence, 
his coat, I have no time to add another word. 

Ever, dearest Oeorgy, your must affectionate. 


LoKDon, Sniurday, Augiut T. 1358. 

^ DBAKEST Mamet, — The closing night at Plymouth 

f griiat BC«nc, aud the morning there was exceedingly 

Vou will be gloii to hear that at Clifton last night, 

it of live hiindrpd shillings bore Arthur away, pounded 

wt the wall, flowed on to the seats over his body, 

m, and damaged his best dress-suit. All to hia 


t very short letter, but I am going to the Burlington 
I, lUepemtely resolved to have all those wonderfuY tosItvi- 
x> operation on my head, with a view to Tett«ia\\\n%\V. 
p^ Geaiggf aod to all. 

Ever your aHertioi 



Sbbxwsbubt, T^ondsf, Angoit tt^ ISM^ 

A wonderful audience last night at Wolverhampton. If soch 
a thing can be, they were even quicker and more intelligent 
than the audience I had in Edinburgh. They were so wonder- 
fully good and were so much on the alert this morning by nine 
o'clock for another reading, that we are going back there at 
about our Bradford time. I never saw such people. And the 
local agent would take no money, and charge no expenses of hU 

This place looks what Plom would call ^^ ortily " dulL Lo- 
cal agent predicts, however, '^ great satisfaction to Mr. Dickens, 
and excellent attendance." I have just been to look at the 
hall, where everything was wrong, and where I have left Arthur 
making a platform for me out of dining-tables. 

If he comes back in time, I am not quite sure but that he 
is himself going to write to Grad's HilL We talk of coming 
up from Chester in the night to-morroWy after tlie reading ; 
and of showing our precious selves at an apparently impossibly 
early hour in the Grades Hill breakfast-room on Saturday morn- 

I have not felt the fatigue to any extent worth mentioning; 
though I get, every night, into the most violent heats. We 
are going to dine at three o'clock (it wants a quarter now), 
and have not been here two hours, so I have seen nothing of 

Tell Greorgy with my love, that I read in the same room in 
which we acted, but at the end opposite to that where our stage 
was. We are not at the inn where the amateur company put 
up, but at The Lion, where the fair Miss Mitchell was lodged 
alone. We have the strangest little rooms (sitting-room and 
two bedrooms all together), the ceilings of which I can touch 
with my hand. The windows bulge out over the street, as if 
tlioy were little stern-windows iu a ship. And a door opens 
out of the sitting-room on to a little open gallery with plants 
in it, where one leans over a queer old rail, and looks all down 
hill and slantwise at the crookedest black and yellow old houses, 
all manner of shapes except straight shapes. To get into this 
room we come through a china-closet; and the man in laying 

the cloth has actually knocked down, in that repository, two 
geraniitniB and Naptileou Bonaparte. 

I thiak tliat 'a all I have to say, except that at the Wolver- 
hajnptoa theatre tliey played " Oliver Twist " last night (Mr. 
Toole the Artful Dodger), "in consequence of the illustrioua 
author honouriug the town with his presence." We heard that 
the device succeeded very well, and that they got u good moay 

John's spirits have been oquahle and good since we rejoined 
him. Berrj lias always got something tiie matter with Ids 
iligtslion — deems to me the male gender of Maria iTolly, and 
ooght to take nothing but Bevalenta Arahica. Bottled ale 
is not to be got in these parts, and Arthur is thrown up<ia 

Hy dcftreat love to Gcorgy and to Kntey, also to Marguerite, 
" p to all the boys and the noble Plorn. 

Ever your affectionate father. 



Wednesday Morning, AuguM IM, latiS. 
» thia hurried line before starting, to report that my 
_ fa decidedly bettor, thank God (though still Iiail), and that 
I hope to be able to stagger through to-night. After dinner 
jetlcrday I began to recover ray voice, and I think I sang half 
'"" " "i MeloiUes to myself, aa I walked about to test it. I 
! at half-past ten, and mustard- poulliccd and harley- 
1 myself tremendously. 
b tg the dear girls, and to all. 

Ever alfectionutely. 

rniE 8AMP. 


FridBif Nighl, AuguM 20, 1858, 

JMeived your welcome and interesting letter to-day, and I 
„, — you a very hurried and had reply ; but it ia after thn 
••orfin?, and you wiJJ tsfce tbo will for the deed uaiet >.\iii»b 
w aecums-tances, I know. 

idoaa night ; tlio largest tons© \ \iwa 


ever had since T first began — two thousand three hundred 
people. To-morrow afternoon, at three, I read again. 

My cold has been oppressive, and is not yet gone. I have 
been very hard to sleep too, and last night I was all but sleep, 
leas. This morning 1 waa very dull and seedy ; hut I got a 
good watk, and picked up again. It has been blowing all day, 
and I fear we shall have a sick passage over to Dublin to-moiTow 

Tell Mamie (with my dear love to her and Kate) that I will 
write to her from Dublin — probably on Sunday. Tell her loo 
that the etortes she told me in her letter were not only capital 
BtoriBB in theniBelvea, but exeeUeiUli/ told too. 

What Arthur's state has been to-night — he, John, Berry, 
and Boylett, all taking money and going mad together — yea 
oannot imagine. They turned away hundreds, sold all the 
books, rolled on the ground of my room knee-deep in cheques, 
and made a perfect pantomime of the whole thing. He has 
kept quite well, I am happy to say, and sends a hundred loves. 

In great haste and fatigue. 

Ever affectionately. 


and did not got here till noon jaBterday, Donnybrook Fair, or 
vliitt romains of it, is going on, within two or three miles of 
Uubliu. They went out there yesterday in a jauuttng-car, and 
John described it to us at dinner-time (with his eyebrows lifted 
up, and his legs well asunder), as " Johnny Brooks's Fair ; " at 
vhich Arthur, who was drinking bitter ale, nearly langhed hira- 
H>lf to death. Berry is always unfortunate ; and when 1 asked 
what hud happened to Berry on board the steamboat, it appeared 
that " an Irish gcutleinan which was drunk, and fancied lUniHull 
the captain, wanted to knock Berry down." 

I am surprised by finding this place very much larger than 
I had supposed it to be. Its bye-parts are bad enough, but 
dnner, too, than I had supposed tlieni to he, and certainly very 
much deaiier than the old town of Edinburgh. The mati who 
dme our jaunting-car yesterday hadn't a. piece in his cout as 
liig U a penny roll, and had hud his hat on (apparently without 
bnehing it) ever ainci' he was grown up. But he was reniork- 
ablf intelligent and agreeable, with something to say about 
everything. For instance, when I asked him what a certain 
baiiiliiig was, he didn't say "courts of law " and nothing else, 
Iml: "Av you plaso, sir, it's the foor coorts o' looyors, where 
Mkthnr O'Conaell stood his trial wunst, ye '11 remimber, sir, 
•lore I tell ye of it" When we got into the Phosnix Park, he 
looked round him as if it were hia own, and said : " That 's 
» psrk, sir, av yer plaae." I complimented it, and he said : 
"UiuUemen tills nie as they 'r bin, sir, over Europe, and never 
w a park aqnalling ot it. 'T is eight mile roond, sir, ten mile 
ud • hnU long, and in the month of May the hawthorn-trees 
ut u btnuliful as brides with their white jewels on. Yonder 's 
the vice-TUgal lodge, sir; in them two corners lives the two 
wn-time^ wishing I was them, sir- There 's air here, sir, av 
Jttptase! There's scenery here, sir! There's mountftins — 
ten, rir! Yer coonsider it a park, air ? It is that, sb ! " 

Vou iJiuuld have heard John in my bedroom this morning 
tnduvonriug to imitate a bath-man, who had resented his 
ioltrforence, and had said as to the shower-hulh: " Yor'll not 
W touching that, young man. Divil a touch yer 'U touch o' 
tlul iwthrument, young man ! " It was more ridiii«\o\i6\'j \«i- 
fl» Ibo TmMty tJuui I can express to you, yet he -waa bo 
^'V W//A his potrera that be went off in t\ni ateuTieat 
T-beerj' giggJe, backiDg into my portmanWau aW v\v*i 


My dear love to Katie and to Geoigy, also to the notilo Plom 
and all the boys. I shall writ« to Katie next, and then to 
Aunty, My cold, 1 am happy to report, is very much hetter. 
I lay in the wet all night on deck, on board tbe boat, but am 
not as yet any the worse for it. Arthur was quite insenEibJe 
when we got to Dublin, and stared at our lu^age without in 
the least offering to claim it. He left his kindest love tor all 
before he went out. I will keep tho envelope open until he 

Ever, my dearest Mamie, 

Your most affectionate father. 

HoRBtBon's BorsL, Duaua, Vltdneiity. Auguft 2S. 18JS. 
I Ijcgin my letter to you to-day, though I don't know when 
I may send it off. We bad a very good bouse last night, after 
all, that is to Eay, a great rush of shillings and good half- 
crowus, though the stalls were comparatively few. For " Little 
Dorabey," this morning, we have an immense stall let — already 


Cork, wild has jnat now (noon) written to me, proposing din- 
ners and excursione in that neighbourhooJ which would fill 
■bout a week ; I being there a day aod a half, and reading 
three timea. The work will be very severe here, and I begin 
to feel depressed by it. (By " here," I mean Ireland gener- 
ally, plesM to observe.) 

We meant, as I said in a letter to Katie, to go to Queens- 
town yealcnlay and bask on the seashore. But there is always 
Mt much to do that wc could n*t manage it after all. We 
expect a tremendons house to-morrow night as well as to-day ; 
and Arthur is at the present instant up to his eyes in business 
(and eeat»), and, between hia regret at losing to-night, and hia 
deaira to make the room hold twice as many as it u'ill hold, la 
half distracted. I have become a wonderful Iriehman — must 
pUy an Irish part some day — and his only relaxation ia when 
1 tnact " John and the Boot*," which I consequently do enaot 
iD Jay long. The papers are full of remarks upon my white 
tie, and dcsmbe it as being of enormous si^p, whieli is a won- 
doful delusion, because, as you very well know, it is a small 
Ui, Qenerally, I am happy to report, the Emerald press is in 
favour of my appearance, and likes my eyes. But one gentle- 
nuQ cornea out with a letter at Cork, wherein he says that 
although only forty-six I look like an old man. If e is a mm 
Oikinier, I think. 

The Kotberfords are living here, and wanted me to dine with 
thwn, which, I need n't sny, could not be done; all manner of 
people havft calle<], hut I have seen only two. John has given 
il lip altngt^ther as to rivalry with the IJoole, and did not eome 
Mo my rocini this morning at all. Boots appeared triumphant 
ud a!ime. He was waiting for ms at the hotel door last night. 
"Whaa't (url. of a hoose, sur?"' he asked me, "Capital." 
"The Lud Iw praised fur the 'onour o' Doohlin ! " 

Arthur buys bad apples in the streets and brings them home 
trnj does n't eat them, and then I am obliged to put them in 
Ihs baloony because they make the room smell faint. Also he 
nwrta countr>-men with honeycomb on their heads, and leads 
Ibtm (by the button-hole when they have one) to this gorgeous 
atabliiihinent and requests the bar to buy honejconAt Iot V\% 
hnakfait ; .Own it sUnds upon the aideboatil uncovexeA OTl^ 
""MiiBt c it. He bttya owls, too, and castles, ttuft, cl'hw 
't "^^ ^ bog^k (that material w\^l«j\i " 


appreciated at Crad's Hill) ; and he is perpetaally anippiag 
pieces out of newspapers and sending them all over the worii 
While I am reading he conducts the correspondence^ and hk 
great delight is to show me seventeen or eighteen letters wbcA 
I come, exhausted, into the retiring-place. Berrj has not got 
into any particular trouble for forty-eight hours, except that he 
is all over boils. I have prescribed the yeast, but ineffectu- 
ally. It is indeed a sight to see him and John sitting in pay- 
boxes, and surveying Ireland out of pigeon-holes. 

Same Evening before Bedtime. 

Everybody was at " Little Dombey " to-day, and although I 
had some little difficulty to work them up in consequence of 
the excessive crowding of the place, and the difficulty of shak- 
ing the people into their seats, the effect was unmistakable and 
profound. The crying was universal, and they were extraor- 
dinarily affected. There is no doubt we could stay here a week 
with that one reading, and fill the place every night Hun- 
dreds of people have been there to-night, under the impression 
that it would come off again. It was a most decided and 
complete success. 

Arthur has been imploring me to stop here on the Friday 
after Limerick, and read '^ Little Dombey " again. But I have 
positively said " No." The work is too hard. It is not like 
doing it in one easy room, and always the same room. With 
a different place every night, and a different audience with its 
own peculiarity every night, it is a tremendous strain. I was 
sick of it to-day before I began, then got myself into wonderful 

Here follows a dialogue (but it requires imitation), which I 
had yesterday morning with a little boy of the house — land- 
lord's son, I suppose — about Plom's age. I am sitting on the 
sofa writing, and find him sitting beside me. 

Inimitable. Holloa, old chap. 
Young Ireland. Hal-loo ! 

Inimitable (in his delightful way). What a nice old fellow 
you are. I am very fond of little boys. 
Young Ireland. Air yer ? Ye'r right 
Inimitable. What do you learn, old fellow ? 
Young Ireland (very intent on Inimitable, and always child- 

wA, exc^t in Ais brogve). I lairn wureda of three sillibilB, and 
wureda ol two aillibilH, luid wureds of one sillibil. 

Ittimitaile {gaihi). Uet out, you humbug 1 You learn only 
words of one eylkble. 

Yevnij Ireland {Uiiigha keartUy). You may say that it ia 
mostly wureds of one xillibil. 

Jnimitt^U. Cui you write ? 

Ytntng Ireland. Not yet. Things comes by deegrays. 

InimitaAle. Can you cipher ? 

Yminff Ireland (i-CJv/ quickly). Wha'at's that? 

Inimitahle, Ctui you makn (iguios? 

Young Ireland. I can make a nouglit, which is not asy, 
being roond. 

Inimiiaiile. I say, old Ixiy, was n't it you I saw on Sunday 
atonilng in the hall, in a soldier's cap? You know — in a 

- ■ .p7 

Ireland (cogitating defply). Was it a very good 

om, ia show people 
two old Paddies," 

nothing like them 
'bey bow and walk back- 
hustle them while they 

intention of going to tha 

mont (they were doing 

IS very bad jail, and tbo 

L« back again, and 

a railway carriage, 

knocked up, Whenever I 

I go to bed as a mat- 

l1 to all the l»^*, T« 
o£ course, tn iVn &n^ 
lust InaU teaiio'i on. 
it when w« sWiV Wn* 


turned this week, once knocked off Belfast, 1 shall see land, 
and shall (tike poor Timber in the daja of old) '* keep tip a 
good heart." I get bo wonderfully hot every night in my dresB 
clothes, that they positively wou't dry in the short interval they 
get, and I have been obliged to write to Doudney's to make me 
another suit, that I may have a conataat change. 

Ever, my dearest Geoi^, most affectionately. 


Bkl7A»t, Siturda;, August 38, IBSS. 

When I went down to the Rotunda at Dublin on Thursday 
night, I saiil to Arthur, ivho came rushing at me : " You 
need n't tell me. I know all about it." The moment I had 
come out of the door of the hotel (a mile off), I had come 
against the stream of people turned away. I had struggled 
against it to the room. There, the crowd in all the lobbies and 
passages was so great, that I had a difficulty in getting in. 
They had broken all the glass in the pay-boxes. They had 
offered fruntiu prices for stalls. Eleven bank-notes were thrust 


there), and in spite of my gas suddenly going out at the time 
of the game of forfeits at Scrooge's nephew's, through some Bcl- 
fartian gentleiuan accidentally treading on the fleKihle pipe, and 
needing to 1« relighted. 

We shall not get to Cork before midday on Monday ; it 
being ditficult to get from here on a Sunday. We hope to be 
Eilile to start away to-morrow morning to see the Giant's Canse- 
*iiy (some sixteen miles off), and in that ca*e we shall sleep at 
DahUii to-morrow night, leaving here Ijy the train at half-past 
three in the afternoon. Ihiblin, you must understand, is on the 
way to Cork. This is a fine place, surrounded by lofty hills. 
The streets are very wide, and the place is very prosperous. 
The whole ride from Dublin here is through a very picturesque 
and variiiua country ; and the amazing thii\g is, that it is all 
pLTticularly neat and orderly, and that the houses (outside at all 
events) are all brightly whitewashed and romarkahly elesn. I 
want to climb one of the neighbouring hills before this moni- 
iflg'a "Domhey." I am now waiting for Arthur, who has gone 
to the bank to remit his last accumulation of treasure to Lon- 

0<ir men are rather indignant witJi the Irish crowds, Iwcause 
in the simple they don't sell books, and hecaaae, in the pres- 
sort, they can't force a way into the room afterwards to sell 
Atm. They are deiiply interested in the succl-sb, however, and 
Uf as tealous and anient as possible. I shall write to Katie 
Mxt Give her my best love, and kiss the darling Flora for 
lU^ and give my love to all the hoys. 

Ever, my dearest Mamie, 

Your moat affectionate father. 

to „,»._ 

^^^^B VoBBlftOS's Bom, Ddblih, Sunday Niehl, AngusI 99, 1: 

^^^Tam so delighted to find your letter here to-night (eleve^ 
o'clock), and so afraid that, in the wear and tear of this 
•ItMige life, I have written to Gad's Hill in the wrong order, 
•nd have not written to you, as I should, that I resolve to write 
lii* before going to bed. You will find it a wrp.WViftM.'s sU\'^\^ 
ktlOT; hut you may im&g\m, my dearest girl, that \ am t\tt\. 
" > a.t Beit aat has be^n equnl to tba autccaR \v«w,. 

'f «*ray half tho town. \ t\\\T\V. Vhexn. a 


better audience, on the whole, than Dublin ; and the personal 
affection there was something overwhelming. I wish you and 
the dear giils could have seen the people look at me in the 
iitreet ; or heard them ask me, as I hurried to the hotel after 
reading last night, to " do me the honour to shake hands, 
Misther Dickens, and God bless you, sir; not ounly for the 
light you 've been to me this night, but for the light you We 
been in mee house, sir (and God love your face), this many a 
year." Every night, by the bye, since I have been in Ireland, 
the ladies have beguiled John out of the bouquet Irom my 
coat. And yesterday morning, as I hud showered the leaves 
from my geranium in reading " Little Dorabey," they mounted 
the platform, after I was gone, and picked them all up as keep- 
sakes ! 

I have never seen men go in to cry so undisguisedly aa they 
did at that reading yuaterday afternoon. They made no attempt 
whatever to hide it, and certainly cried mote than the women. 
As to the " Boots " at tdght, and " Mrs. Gamp " too, it was 
just one roar with me and them ; for they made me laugh so 
that sometimes I miild not compose my face to go on. 

ready. Hn was in the last stage of proBtration. The loail 
ageut w6ia 'with me, and proposed that he (the wretched 
Arthur) should go to bis office and balance the accounts then 
and there. He went, in the jacket and slippers, and came back 
in twenty minutes, pcr/f-etli/ well, in coneequence of the admir- 
able balanc*. He ia now sitting opposite to me on the bag 
or siLVEJt, forty pounds (it must be dreadful hard), writing to 

1 suppose it is clear that the next letter I write is Katie's, 
■itiier from Cork or from Limerick, it shall report further. At 

ifirick I read in the theatre, there being no other place. 

~e«l love to Itlamie and Katie, and dear Plom, and all the 

• left when this comes to Gad's Hill ; also to my dear good 
I, and bet little woman. Ever affectionately. 


Gjlv's Hn.L Place. BianAM nr Ro 

Monday, Sf pletnber S, 1B&8, 

IIt dkab Wilkik, — First, let me report myself here for 
stRnetbing less than eight-and-forty hours. I come last (and 
Jirect — a pretty hard journey) from Limerick. The success 
in Inland lias been immense. 

Tbtf work ifl very hard, aometinieB overpowering; but I am 
B the worse for it, and arrived here quite fresh. 

mdly, will you let me recommend the inclosed letter 
1 Wignn, as the groundwork of a capital article, in your 
" H. W, " ? There is not the least objection to a plain 
l^ to Ulm, or to Phelps, to whom the same thing bap- 
1 a year or two ago, near Islington, in the case of a clever 
J capitul little daughter of his. I think it a capital oppor- 
tunity for a discourse on gentility, with a glance at those other 
Bcho^ whidi ddvertiso that the " sons of gentlemen only " are 
»dniitted, and a just reM^ition of the greater lihe.rality of our 
public fchoolfi. There are tradesmen's eons at Eton, and 
Charles Kean was at Eton, and Macready (also an actor's son) 
was al Rugby. Some such title as " Scholastic FInnkeydom," 
or anything infinitely contemptuous, would help out t\\6 ovwm- 
iBg. Sorely such a schooImasteT must aw&Uow aW the sA'jei 
' ( that tbe pupUa are expected to take wWn the-j come, 
^ to Uke away with tliem -wWu ttie-3 «a« 


I of course be could not exiat, unless he hod flunkey cus- 

s by the dozen. 

secondly — no, this is thirdly now — about the Christmas 

I have arranged so to stop my readiugs as to be 

e for it on //;e IBtli. of November, which will leave me 

B to write a. good article, if I clear my way to one. Do you 

ir way to our making a Christmaa number of this idea that 

ling very briefly to hint ? Some disappointed persoa, man 

an, prematurely disgusted with the world, for some reason 

lio reason (the person should be young, I think) retires to au 

1 lonely house, or an old lonely mill, or anything you like, 

attendant, resolved to shut out the world, and hold 

3 with it. The one attendant sees the absurdity 

fthe idea, pretends to humour it, but really thus to slaughter 

Everything that happens, everybody that cornea near, every 

lath of human interest that floats into the old place from the 

f, or the heath, or the four cross-roads near which it 

I, and from which belated travellers stray into it, shows 

. mistake that you can't shut out the world ; that you 

, to be of it J that you get into a false position the 



SiATioH Hotel. York, Friday, September 10, IBSS. 

I>BAREBT Mebry, — First let me tell you that all the niagi- 
cians and spirits in your employ have fulfilled the instructions of 
their wotidrouB mistress to adniiration. Flowora have fallen in 
my path wherever I have trod ; and when they rained upon me 
Bt Cock I was more amazed than you ever saw me. 

Secondly, receive my hearty and lovin;; thunka for that same. 
(£xcuse a little Irish in the turn of that Bentunce, hut I can't 
help it) 

Thirdly, I liavo written direct to Mr. lioddington, explaining 
tbat I am bound to he in Edinburgh on the day when he (lour- 
toonsly proposes to do me honour. 

1 realty cannot tell you how truly and tenderly I feel your 
letter, and how gratified I am hy its contents. Your truth and 
attiiclimont arc always so precious to me that I i^imot get my 
licart out on my sleeve to show it you. It is like a child, 
uid, at the sound of some familiar voices, " goes and hides." 

You know what aii affection I have for Mrs. Wataon, and 
how happy it made me to see her again — younger, much, than 
when X first knew her in Switzerland. 

God bleas you always ! 

Ever affectionately youre. 


Rarii. Hotel, ScAnnaaoDCB, Sundaj, Septsniber 11, 1B58, 
My Dkabkst Ge'iroy, — Wp had a very fine house indeed 
tt Yuik. All kindn of applications have been made for another 
iwuliiig there, and no ilonbt it woiJd be exceedingly prod\]ctive j 
hilt it cannot be done. At Harrogate yesterday ; the queerest 
plttM, with the strangest people in it, lending the oddest lives of 
<i™cing, newspaper reading, and tables d'liOte. The piety of 
YmX obliging ua to leave that place for Ibia at six this morning, 
»wl there being no nigtit train from Harrogate, we had to 
~ '|gB » speciaJ engine. We got to lied at one, ai\i w^t* m^ 
. in before five ; which, after yeaterduy'a faliguee, \ea-^e» ma » 
^lyu* nm oat at this preeont. 

' this place as yet, uor liave 1 TccaK^eift.' 



any letter here. But the post of this morning is not jet 
delivered, I believe. We have a charming room, overlooking 
the seA. Leech is here (living within n few doors), with the 
partner of hiu bosom, and his young family, I write at ten in 
the morning, having been here two hours ; and you will readily 
suppose that I have not seen him. 

Of news, I have not the faintest breath. I seem to have 
been doing nothing all my life but riding in railway carriages 
and reading. The railway of the morning brought us through 
Castle Howan.!, and under the woods of Eaethorpe, and then 
just below Malton Ahltey, where I wont to poor Smithson's 
funeral. It was a most lovely morning, and, tired as I was, I 
could n't sleep for looking out of window. 

Yesterday, at Harrogate, two circumstances occurred which 
gave Arthur great delight. Firstly, he chafed his legs sore 
with his black bag of silver. Secondly, the landlord asked him 
aa a favour, " If he could oblige him with a little silver." He 
obliged him directly with some forty pounds' worth; and I 
suspect the landlord to have repented of having approached the 
subject. After the reading last night we walked over the moot 


CCri.XVH. MI88 DlCKBNfl 
Staeborouor Akhs, Lf.eos, Wednesday, Seplsmber IG, 1858. 
Mv DKABEsT ILamik, — I have added a pound to the 
Bhequb I would recommend your seeing the poor railway roan 
""' UD and giving hira t«n shillings, and telling him to lut you 
tliim ngain in about a week. If he bo then still unable to 
nd handJa heavy things, I wotdd then give him 
r ten sliillmga, and so on. 

I wrote to Georgy from Scarboroi^h, we have had, 
; God, nothing but success. The Hiill people (not gener- 
j consiilered excitable, even on their own showing) were ao 
Ultiiusta«tic, that we were obliged to promise to go back there 
fee two readings. I have positively resolved not to lengthen out 
th* Ome of my t"!". so wfl are now arranging to drop some small 
plMCs, and eiil>Htitut« Iltill again and York again. But you 
ir31 [wriiaps hnvi; heard this in the main from Arthur. I know 
In wrot« to you aft«r the reading last night. This place 1 have 
■Iways doubled, knowing that we should come hero when it 
WAS recovering Crom the double excitement of the featival and 
the Quern. But there is a very large hall let indeed, and the 
prospect of to-night consequently looks bright. 

Arthur told you, 1 suppose, that he bad his ahirt-front and 
wuslcoat toni off last night ? He was perfectly enraptured in 
OOTwequence. Our men got ao knocked about that he gave thera 
five shillings apiece on the spot. John passed several minutes 
upside down agitinst a wall, with hia head amongst the people's 
boota. Ho cnnie out of the difficulty in an exceedingly tousled 
midition, and with liis face much flushed. For all this, and 
Iheii bfiing pocked as you raay conceive they would bo packed, 
Uisy vttled down the instant I went in, and never wavered in 
Six elosesl attention for on instant. It was a very high room, 
iquited a great effort, 

ily enough, I slept in this house three days last year with 
Arthur baa the bedroom I occupied then, and I have 
3 doors from it, and Gordon baa the one between. Not 
f i» be still with ua, but be has talked of going oti to ■JSatv- 
cbertec, going on to London, and coming back '«'A\i usUi T>ih- 
"-'-iiaext Tuesday a: 

' a great circus with the aeoaon yia% 


finished. All sorta of garish trimupbal archea were put up for 
tlie Queen, and they have got xtnoky, and have been looked out 
of countenance by tlie sun, and are blistered and patchy, imd 
half up and half down, and are hideous to behold. SpiritJeM 
men (evidently drunk for some time in the royal honour) are 
slowly romoving them, and on the whole it ia more like the 
clearing away of " The Frozen Deep '" at Tavistock House than 
anything within your knowledge — with the exception that we 
are not in the least sorry, as we were then. Vague ideas are in 
Arthur's head that when we come back to Hull, we are to come 
here, and are to have the Town Hall {a beautiful building), and 
read to the million. I cnii't say yet. That depends. I re- 
member that when I was here before (I came from Kockingham 
to make a speech), I thought them a dull and lilow audience. I 
hope I may have been mistaken. I never saw better audiences 
than the Vorkshiro audiences generally. 

1 am BO perpetually at work or asleep, that I have not a 
scrap of news. I saw the Leech family at Scarboro', both in my 
own house (that is to say, hotel) and in theirs. Tbey were not 

either reading. Scarboro' is gay and pretty, and 1 think 


ubliged to get great billa out, aignifying that no more can be 
eold. It will be by no meana eosy to got into tliu place the 
numbere who have already paid. It is the ball we acted in. 
Cnunmed to the roof and the passages. We must come back 
fa«re towards the end of October, and are again altering the list 
and striking out Bniall places. 

The trains are so strange and unintelligible in this part of the 
country that we were obliged to leave Halifax at eight this 
morning, and breakfast on the road — at Hudilershcld again, 
where we had an hour's wait. Wills was in attendance on the 
platform, and took me (here at Sheffield, I mean) out to Fred- 
erick Lchmanii's house to see Mrs. Wills. She looked pretty 
much the same as over, I thought, and was taking care of a very 
pretty little boy. The house and grounds are as nice as anything 
can be in this emoke. A heavy thunderstorm is passing over the 
(own, and it is raining hard too. 

Tbia is a stupid letter, my dearest Geoi^, but I write in a 
hurry, and in the thunder and lightning, and with the crowd of 
to-night before me. Ever most affectionately. 

The gills (as I have no doubt they have already told you for 
lelvea) arrived here in good time yesterday, and in very 
b condition. They persisted in going to the room last night, 

\t I had arranged tor their remaining ijuict, 
Va have done a vast deal here. I suppose you know that 
Vt arc going to Berwick, and that we mean to sleep there and 
go on tn Edinburgh on Monday morning, arriving there before 
Mnon? If it bn as fine to-morrow as it is to-day, the girls will 
Me tbe OMBt piece of railway between Berwick and Eldinburgh 
lo grwl advantage. I was anxious that they should, because 
lliat kiod of pleasure is really almost tbe only one they are 
litly to have in their present trip. 

StMillcid and Koberta are in Edinburgh, and the Swittiah. 
S^«l Academy gave them a dinner on Wednest\fty, to w'h^iJnY 
[ffjinstt«wir inrited. But, of comae, joj giuui^'WM 'uft- 
— * '—'-^ liiat day. 


Remembering what you do of Sunderland, you will be enr- 
ptised that our profit there waa very considerable. I read in a 
beautiful new theatre, and (I thought to myself) quite wonder- 
fully. Such BD audience I never beheld for rapidity and enthu- 
siasm. The roora in which we acted (converted into a theatre 
afterwards) was burnt to the ground a year or two ago. Wo 
found the hotel, so bad in our time, really good. I walked 
from Durham to Sunderland, and from Sunderland to New- 

Don't you think, as we shall be at home at eleven in the 
forenoon this day fortnight, that it will be best for you and 
Plomish to come to Tavistock House for that Sunday, and for 
us nil to go down to Gad's Hill nest day ? My beat lore to 
the noble Plomish. If he ia quite reconciled to the postpone- 
ment of his trousers, I should like to behold his first appearance 
in them. ](ut if not, as ho is such o good fellow, I think it 
would be a pity to disappoint and try him. 

And now, my dearest Georgy, I think I have said all I have 
to say before I go out for a little air. I had a very Lard day 
yesterday, and am tired. 

As to the mere olToct, of course I don't go on doing the thing 
so often without uarefiilly obaen-ing myself and the people too 
in erery little thing, and without (in consequence) greatly im- 
proving In it. 

At Aberdeen, we were cramnjed to the street twice in one 
day. At Perth (where 1 thought when I arrived there lUenJIy 
oould he noliody to come), the nobility came posting in from 
thirty miles round, and the whole town fsime and filled an im- 
mense ball. As to the effect, if you hod seen theia after Lilian 
died in "The Chimes," or when Scrooge woke and talked to 
the boy outside the window, I doubt if you would ever have 
forgotten it. And at the end of "Dombey" yesterday after- 
Doon, in the cold light of day, tboy all got up, after a short 
pause, gentle and simple, and thundered and waved their huts 
with that astonishing heartiness and fondness for me, that for 
the first time in all my public career they took me completely 
off my legs, and I saw the whole eighteen hnndred of them reel 
on one sidu as if a shock from without had shaken the hall. 

The dtior girls have enjoyed themselves immensely, and their 
" n a great success. I hope I told you (but I forget 
I did or no) how splendidly Newcaetlo ^ came out. I 
ided of Newcastle at the moment because they joined 

I am anxious to get to the end of my readings, and to be at 
hone again, find able to sit down and think in my own study. 
~ t the fatigue, though sometimes very great indeed, hardly 
Ittipon me at alL And although all our people, from Smith 
given in, more or less, at times, 1 have never 
D the least unequal to the work, though sometimes sufli- 
J disindiued (or it. My kindest and best love to Mrs. 
Ever affectionately. 

RoTAL Hnrar., Dkhbt, Friday, Octob«raa, ISS8, 
IvKA^BaT Mamik, —I am writing in u very poor condi- 
(I Iwve n b«ul cold all over me, pains in my Ijack and 
very senaitire and unconifortabie tbioa.t., 't\ieT« 
» Rwat Araj)ght up same stone steps neat rae Ust lu^^, M^i- 
* 1fl^fc»* aut»»i it. 

10 birtbplipe ol Mr. Fotsttt 


The weather on my first two nights at Birmingham was so 
intolf-mbly bad — it blew hard, and never left off raining for 
one Bingla moment — - that the houses were not what they other- 
wise would have been. On the last night the weather cleared, 
and we had a grand houee. 

Jjosl night at Nottingham was almost, if not quite, the moet 
amazing we have had. It is not a very large place, and the 
room is by no means a very large one, but three hundred and 
twenty stalls «-ero let, and all the other tickets were sold. 

Here we ha\e two hundred and twenty stalls let for to-n^t, 
and the other tickets are gone in proportion. It is a pretty 
room, but not large 

1 have just been saving to Arthur that if there is not a large 
let for lork, I would rather give it up, and get Monday at 
Gad's Hill l\e liaie telegraphed to know. If the answer 
comea (as I suppose it will) before post^time, I will tell you in 
a postscript what we decide to do. Coming to London in the 
night of to-morrow (Saturday), and having to see Mr. Ouvry on 
Sunday, and having to start for York early on Monday, I fear 
I should not be able U> get to Gad's Hill at all. You won't 


They are represented as the dullest and worst of audiences. 
I found them very good indeed, even in the morning. 

There awaited me at the hotel, a letter from the Kev. Mr. 
Young, Wentworth Watson's tutor, saying that Mrs. Watson 
wished her hoy to shake hands with me, and that he would 
hring him in the evening. I expected him at the hotel hefore 
the readings. But he did not come. He spoke to John ahout 
it in the room at night. The crowd and confusion, however, 
were very great, and I saw nothing of him. In his letter he 
said that Mrs. Watson was at Paris on her way home, and would 
he at Brighton at the end of this week. I suppose I shall see 
her there at the end of next week. 

We find a let of two hundred stalls here, which is very large 
for this place. The evening heing fine too, and hlue heing to be 
Ken in the sky beyond the smoke, we expect to have a very 
full halL TeU Mamey and Katey that if they had been with 
us on the railway to-day between Leamington and this place, 
they would have seen (though it is only an hour and ten minutes 
by the express) fires and smoke indeed. We came through a 
part of the Black Country that you know, and it looked at its 
blackest. All the furnaces seemed in full blast, and all the 
coal-pits to be working. 

It is market-day here, and the ironmasters are standing out in 
the street (where they always hold high change), making such 
an iron hum and buzz, that they confuse me horribly. In 
addition, there is a bell-man announcing something — not the 
readings, I beg to say — and there is an excavation being made 
in the centre of the open place, for a statue, or a pump, or 
a lamp-post, or something or other, round which all the Wolver- 
hampton boys are yelling and struggling. 

And here is Arthur, begging to have dinner at half-past three 
instead of four, because he foresees " a wiry evening " in store 
for him. Under which complication of distractions, to which 
a waitress with a tray at this moment adds herself, I sink, and 
leave off. 

My best love to the dear girls, and to the noble Plorn, and to 
you. Marguerite and Ellen Stone not forgotten. All yesterday 
and to-day I have been doing everything to the tune of : — 

And the day is dark and dreary. 

Ever, dearest Georgy, 

Your most affectionate and faithful. 


P. S. — I hope the brarier is intolerably hot, and half etiflea 
all the family. Tlien, and not otherwise, I shall think it U 
satisfactory work. 


My dear White, — May I entreat you to thank Mr. Cartet 
very eumestly aiiil kindly in my name, for his protfored hos- 
pitality ; and, further, to explain to him that since my readings 
began, I have known them to be incompatible with all social 
enjoyments, and have neither eet foot in a friend's house nor sat 
down to a friend's table in any one of all the many places I have 
been to, but have rigidly kept myself to my hotels. To this 
resolution I must bold until the last. There is not the least 
virtue in it. It is a matter of stem necessity, and 1 submit with 
the worst grace possible. 

Will you let me know, either at Southampton or PorU- 
moutb, whether any of you, and how many of you, if any, are 

pBmi. n. A. 

Cliristian world arises (as I take it) from a stubborn determina- 
tioD to refiixe the New Teslamcnt as a sutiicieul guide in itself, 
and to force the Old TeBtoment into alliance with it — wLereof 
comes all manner of camel-swallowing and ot gnat-straining, 
But an to resent this miserable error, or to (by any implication) 
depreciate the divine goodness and beauty of the Kew Tosta- 
ment, is to commit even a worse error. And to class Jesus 
Christ with Mahomet ia simply audacity and folly. I might as 
well hoist myself on to a high plntfonn, to inform my disciples 
that the lives of King Geoi^e the Fourth and of King Alfred the 
Great belonged to one and the same category. 

Ever affectionately. 


TavivtoCk Hoi-SE. San<tmr, Decemb«r IS, 1858. 

Mt dear Procter, — A thousand thanks for the little 

mng. I am charmed with it, and shall be delighted to brighl«Q 

" Household Words " with such a wise and genial light. I 

ao more believe that your poetical faculty has gone by, than 

^^fedieve tlint you hove yourself passed to the better land. 

^^Kud it will travel thither in company, rely upon it. So 

^^^D hope to hear more of the trade-songs, and to learn that 

^HFIilflcksmitli has hammered out no end of iron into good 

hbliion of vene, like a cunning workman, aa I know him of 

"Id tube. 

Very faithfully yours, my dear Procter. 


Gad's IIiu. Pi.AtE, Hkhham bt RocnanTKit, 

Wedunda.T, 13lh January, I85n. 

Mr UKAB Frith, — At eleven on Monday morning next, 

'1* jifteJ individual whom you will transmit to posterity ' will 

UatWatkins'a. Table also shall be there, and chair. Velvet 

am iiltewise if the tnilor should have sent it home. But the 

I Cmnrat ia mom to he doubted than the man whose signature 

h«« Wlowa. 
I Faithfully youTs aXwa.'js,. 



WcdacsdH}-, Jaauary 26, 1859. 

My dear Arthur, — "Will you first read the iuclosed leU 
tcrs, haviug previously welcomed, with all possible Midiality, 
the bearer, Mr. Thomas C. Evans, from \ew York ? 

Yoii having rend them, let me explain that Mr. Fields is a 
highly respectable and influential man, oae of the heads of the 
most cluEsical and most respected publishing itouse in America ; 
that Mr. Richard Grant White is a man of high reputation ; 
and that Felton is the Greek Professor in their Canihridge Uni- 
versity, perhnjw the most distinguished scholar in the States. 

The address to myself, referred to in one of the letters, being 
on its way, it is quite clear that I must give some decided and 
definite answer to the American proposal. Now, will you care- 
fully discuss it with Mr. Evans before I enter on it at all? 
Then, will you dine here with hira on Sunday — which I will 
propose to him — and ariango to meet at half-past four for an 

with my two girls and their auut) much excited and pleased by 
joiir bccoant of your daughter's eDgageraant, Apart from the 
hiyh sense I have of the affectionate confidence with wiiich you 
t«ll me what lies so tenderly on your own heart, I have fol- 
lowed the little history with a lively sympathy and regard for 
her. I hope, with yoii, that it ia full of promise, and that jou 
will all be happy in it. The separation, even in the present 
condition of travel (and no man can say how much the discovery 
of a day may udvaiice it), is nothing. And so God bless her 
»nd all of you, and may the rosy summer bring her all the ful- 
bcK of joy that we all wish her. 

To pass from the altar to Townahend (which is a long way), 
let mo report hira severely treated by Bully, who rules him 
■*«fith a paw of iron ; and complaining, moreover, of indigestion. 
lie drives here every Sunday, but at all other times is mostly 
Abut up in his beautiful house, where I otxiaBionally go and dine 
>»ith ham tete-<t-4eti; and where we always talk of you and drink 
to you, I'bat is a nUo with us from which we never depart. 
X3e is " seeing a volume of poems through the press ; " rather 
an expensive amusement. He has not been out at night (except 
t-o this hoDBo) aave last Friday, when he went to hear me i«ad 
'•The Poor Traveller," "Mrs. Gamp," und "The Trial" from 
"Hckwick," Ha came into my room at St. Martin's Hall, 
and I fortified him with weak brandy and water. You will be 
gl»l to hear that the said readings are a greater furore than 
thpj ever have been, and that every night on which they now 
t«ke place — once a week — hundreds go away, unable to get 
u, thougli the hall holds thirteen hundred people. I dine 

irith to-day, by the bye, along with his agent; concerning 

*lwm I observe him to lie always divided between an tuiboimdeil 
un&lGiine and a little latent suspicion. He always tells me 
ftil he is a gem of the first water ; oh, yes, the best of business 
nwil inil then says that he did not quite like his conduct 
fe^liTCling that farm-tenant and those hay-ricks. 

There ia a general impression here, among the best informed, 
IW w»f in Italy, to begin with, is inevilable, and will breok 
oat Wore April. I know a gentleman at Genoa (Swiss by 
WiUi), itpeply in with the authorities at Turin, who is ahtiwA'^ 
mding children home. 
_Jfl %/iO./ we are quiet enough. There is a viortA vA U\V, 
^.Beterm Wla; but I don't WVievc IVeiew 


any general strong feeling on the subject. According to my 
perceptions, it is undeniable thnt the public has fallen into a 
atate of indifference about public affairs, mainly referable, as I 
think, to the people who administer them — and there I mean 
the people of all parties — which is a very bad sign of the 
times. The general mind seems weary of debates and honour- 
able raerabere, and to have taken laitsfz-aller for its motto. 

My affairs domestic (which I know are not without their in- 
terest for you) flow peacefully. My elJest daughter is a capitnl 
housekeeper, heads the table gracefully, delegates certain appro- 
priate duties to her sister ami her aiint, and they are all three 
devotedly attached. Charley, my eldest boy, remains in Bar- 
iDgs' house. Your present correBpontlent ia more popular than 
he ever has been, I rather think that the readings in tie coun- 
try have opened up a new public who were outside before ; but 
however that may be, his books have a wider range than they 
ever had, and his public welcomes are prodigious. Said corre- 
spondent is at present ovenvhelmed with proposals to go and 
read in America. Will never go, unless a small fortime be 
first paid down in money on this side of the Atlantic. Staled 



TavibtoCk Hdusi, Monday Nit^lit, March 14, 1B60. 

Yv DKAR Panizzi, — If jou flliould feel no delicacy in 
meulii^uiiig, or should see do objection to mentioning, to Signor 
Poerio, or any of tiie wronged Neapolitan gentlemen to whom 
it a your hiLppiness and l)onour lo be a friend on their arrival 
in this country, an idea thut has occurred to me, I gbould regai'd 
il u a great kindness in you if you would be my exponent. I 
thiuk you will have no difficulty in believing that I would not, 
oa any consideration, obtrude my name or projects upon any 
one of those noble souls, if there were any reason of the slight- 
Ht kind against it. And if you see any such reason, I pray 
fan instantly to banish my letter from your thoughts. 

It seoms to me probable that some narrative of their ten 
yan' Boffering will, somehow or other, sooner or later, be by 
Kni« of them laid before the English people. The just interest 
>n<I indignation alive here will (I suppose) elicit it. False 
lunativce and garbled stories will, in any case, of a certainty 
gut iiliout. If the true history of the matter is to be told, I 
k«V8 that sjTniiathy with tbem and respect for them which 
»Oilld, nil other considerations apart, render it unspeakably 
gntifying to me to he the means of its diffusion. What I 
deriie to lay before them is simply this. If for my new siic- 
tttKT to "Houseliold Words" a narrative of their ten years' 
W*! conld be written, I would take any conceivable pains to 
hie it rendered into English, and presented in the sincerest 
•ndhost way to a very large and coniprehenaive aiidience. It 
"boiild be published exactly as you might think beet for them, 
ud remunerated in any way that you might think generous and 
fight. They want no mouthpiece and no introducer, but per- 
hija they might liave no objection to be associated with an 
English writer, who is pos«bly not unknown to them by some 
gaieral reputation, and who certainly would he animated by a 
rtrong public and private respect for their honour, spirit, and 
unmerited misfortunes. This is the whole matter; assuming 
llut Kich a thing is to bo done, I long for Ihe pm\\e%ft o\. 
Vlpiptf to do it. Them gentlemen might consldet \\, ua iwie^ 
""»«^a»j^j^TO»y. and I should \x 4e%\vte^te 


Iq my absence from town, my frieail and sub-eilitor, Mr. 
Wills (to whom I had expressed iny feeling on the subject), 
has seen, I think, tlu-ee of the gentlemen together. But S3 I 
hear, returning home to-night, that they are in your good hands, 
and as nobody can he a better judge than you of anything that 
concerns them, I at once decide to write to you and to take no 
other step whatever. Forgive rae for the trouble I have occa- 
sioned you in the reading of this letter, and never think of it 
again if you think that by pursuing it you would cause them 
an instant's uneasinesa. 

Believe me, very faithfully yours. 


Tavistock Hocsb, Saturday, March 19, 1959. 

My DEAR Procter, — I think the songa are simply AD- 
MIRABLE ! snd I have no doubt of this being a popular 
feature in " All the Year Round." I would not omit the eex- 
ton, and I would not omit the spinners and weavera; and I 

luld omit the hack-writers, and (I think) the alderman ; 


ia the great landmark of the whole neighbourhood. Captain 

Goldaniitb'e huute is Hp a lane considerably off the high-road ; 
but be has a garden wall ahuttiiig on the road itself. 

3. "The Pic-Nic Papere" were originally aold to Co! bum, 
£or the benefit of the widow of Mr. Alacrone, of St. James's 
Sqiiaro, puhlishei, deeeased. Two volumes were contributed — 
ol course gratuitoualy — by writers who had had transactions 
"vr'itk Mocrotie. Mr, Colbum, wanting three volumes in all for 
tnde purposes, added a third, consisting of an American reprint. 
Of that volume I didn't know, 'and don't know, anything. 
The other two I edited, gratuitoiialy aa aforesaid, and wrote 
tto " lAmpligiiter'a Story " in. It was all done many years 
'i^. There was a preface originally, delicately setting forth how 
'iie book cnme to be. 

3, I suppose to be, as Mr. Samuel WeUer expresses it 

■"laewliere in "Pickwick," " mvin' mad with the conscious- 
'•eae o' wilkny." Under their advertisement in the " Times " 
**Ml«y, you will see, witliorit a word of comment, the shorthand 

KWriiBf^a verbatim report of the judgment. 
Ever faithfully. 

Tavutook Hovau, Tavui 

Pavutopk SquARE, LowtmB, W. Ct 
Tuesday, Hay 31, laW. 

[t rear Mbs. Wat80v, — You surprise me by supposing 
there is ever Intent a defiant and roused expression in the 
^mlereigned lamli 1 Apiirt from this singular delusion of youts, 
*a«l wholly unof^ountahle departure from your usual accuracy 
■n all thingx, your ttntittfuction with the portrait is a great pleas- 
'U* to mr. It has received every conceivable patna at Frith'a 
^Untb, and ought on his account to be good. It is a little too 
HWich (to ray thinking) as if my next-door neighbour were ray 
'deadly fi*, uninsureii, and I had just received tidings of hia 
bousi' being afire ; othervrise very good, 

1 Cannot tpll you how delighted we shall be if you would 
wnifl lo Gad's Hill. You should see some charming uooila 
"id s wre old cnstJe, and you should have anch a swi^ toi>m 
looking over a Kentish prospect, with every laciWly m \\, Iot 
mderiag on the heautiia ot its master's WarA 1 Do conia ,\y^ 
Hively wm/ nog come and go on the samo day. 


We retieat there on Mondajy and shall he there all the 

Mj small hoy is perfectly happj at Southsea, and likee the 
achool Yerj mndu I had Uie finest letter two or three days 
ago, from another of my hoys — Frank Jeffrey — at Hamhorg. 
In this wonderful epistle he says : '^ Dear papa, I write to tell 
yon that I haTe given np all thoughts of heing a doctor. My 
conviction that I shall never get over my stammering is the 
cause ; all professions are harred against me. The only thing I 
should like to he is a gentleman farmer, either at the Cape, in 
Canada, or Australia. With my passage paid, fifteen pounds, 
a horse, and a rifle, I could go two or three hundred miles up 
country, sow grain, huy cattle, and in time he very comfort> 

Considering the consequences of executing the little conmiis- 
don hy the next steamer, I perceived that the first consequence 
of the fifteen pounds would he that he would he rohhed of it — 
of the horse, that it would throw him — and of the rifle, that 
it would hlow his head off; which prohahilities I took the 
liherty of mentioning, as being against the scheme. With best 
love from all. 

Ever believe me, my dear Mrs. Watson, 

Your faithful and affectionate. 


Tavistock Housb, Sandaj, Jane 5, 1850. 

My deab Mrs. White, — I do not write to you this 
morning because I have anything to say — I well know where 
your consolation is set, and to what beneficent figure your 
thoughts are raised — but simply because you are bo much in 
my mind that it is a relief to send you and dear White my 
love. You are always in our hearts and on our lips. ^lay the 
great God comfort you ! You know that Mary and Katie are 
coming on Thursday. They will bring dear Lotty what she 
little needs with you by her side — love ; and I hope their 
company will interest and please her. There is nothing that 
they, or any of us, would not do for her. She is a part of us 
all, and has belonged to us, as well as to you, these many 

Ever your affectionate and faithful. 



Gad'b Hill, Hicham rt RocHKSTEn, Eemt, 

Monday. June 11, ISlJlJ. 

f DEAEEST Mamie, — Ou SaturJay night I fouud, very 
iMeb to my surprise aad pleaanre, the photograph on my table 
at Tavistock House. It is not a very pleasant ot cheerful pre- 
. sentation of my daugbtera ; but it is wonderfully like fur all 
that, and in Borae details roraarkably good. When I caaie 
home here yesterday I tried it iu the large Townshend etereo- 
sco[ie, in which it ehowa to great advantage. It is in the little 
■tereoseopa at present on the drawing-room table. One of the 
baluatrades of the dejitroyed old Rochetitcr bridge has been 
(»«jf nicely) presented to me by the contractor for the works, 
and has been duly stoneinaeoned and set up on the kwn behind 
tibe house. I have ordered a sun-dial for the top of it, and it 
irill b« a very good object indeed. The Plom is highly ex- 
dlad lo^y by resson of an institution which he tells me (after 
questioning George) is called the " Cobb, or Bodderin," holding 
a festival at The Falataff. He is possessed of some vague in- 
formation that they go to Higham Church, iu pursuance of some 
old usage, and attend service there, and afterwards march round 
the village. It so far looks probable that they certainly started 
off at eleven very spare in numbers, and camo back wmsider- 
tbly recruited, which looks to roe like the dilTerence between 
piing to church and coming to dinner. They bore no end of 
bright banners and broad sashes, and hail a band with a torrilic 
drum, and are now (at half-past two) dining at The Falstaff, 
partly in the aide room on the ground floor, and partly in a tent 
improvised this morning. The drum is hung up to a tree in 
Tho Fnlstiiff garden, and looks like a tropical sort of gourd. I 
barn (ircsented tho band witti five shillings, which munific«ince 
Ima Iiccu highly appreciated. Ices don't seem to be jirovided 
lor tho ladies in tho gallery — I mean the garden ; they are 
prowling about there, endeavouring to peep in at the beef and 
mutton thrciigli the holes in the tent, on the whole, in a de- 
taaed and dcgnuled manner. 

Turk H)me)ww cut Us foot in Cobham Lanes jesAwniov , atiA. 
m b^m. Tbey are both lame, and looking at each iit\\ex, 
_«#■_ f i.,„.i ^_. latoiidlag to go lor aucil\voi Wt«.o 


weeks, and designing to come down here for a few days — witk 
Henry and Bully — on Wednesday ! I wish you could hare 
seen him alone with me on Saturday ; he was so extraordinarily 
earnest and affectionate on my belongings and affairs in general, 
and not least of all on you and Katie, that he cried in a most 
pathetic manner, and was so affected that I was obliged to leave 
him among the flower-pots in the long passage at the end of tbe 
dining-room. It was a very good piece of truthfulness and 
sincerity, especially in one of his years, able to take life so 

Mr. and Mrs. Wills are here now (but I dare say you know 
it from your aunt), and return to town with me to-morrow 
morning. We are now going on to the castle. Mrs. Wills was 
very droll last night, and told me some good stories. My dear, 
I wish particularly to impress upon you and dear Katie (to 
whom I send my other best love) that I hope your stay wiU 
not be very long. I don't think it very good for either of you, 
though of course I know that Lotty will be, and must be, and 
should be the first consideration with you both. I am very 
anxious to know how you found her and how you are yourself. 

Best love to dear Lotty and Mrs. White. The same to Mr. 
White and Clara. We are always talking about you alL 

Ever, dearest Mamie, your affectionate father. 


Gad's Hill Plack, Hioiiam bt Rochester, Kkxt, 

Thursday, July 7, 1859. 

My dear White, — I send my heartiest and most affec- 
tionate love to Mrs. White and you, and to Clara. You know 
all that I could add ; you have felt it all ; let it be unspoken 
and unwritten — it is expressed with us. 

Do you not think that you could all three come here, and 
stay with us ? You and Mrs. White should have your own 
large room and your own ways, and should be among us when 
you felt disposed, and never otherwise. I do hope you would 
find peace here. Can it not be done ? 

We have talked very much about it among ourselves, and tbe 
girls are strong upon it Think of it — do ! 

Ever your affectionate. 



Gau'b Hill Plack, Hioram bt RncnESTKB, 
Augual il, 1S59. 

EICt deab Mks. Cowden Clarkk, — I caunot tell you 
how much pleasure I have derived frum the rocoipt of your 
earnest letter. I>o not suppose it possible tliat such praise can 
be "less than notlung" to your old manager. It is more than 
all else. 

Here in ray little country-house on the summit of the hill 
where Falstaff did the tohbery, your words have come to me in 
the most appropriate and delightful manner. When the story 
can be rtiad all at once, and my meaning can be better seen, I 
witl send it to you (sending it to Dean Street, if you telL me of 
no better way), and it will be a hearty gratilicatii>n to think 
Unt you and your good husband are reading it togetbor. For 
yoa must both tako notice, please, that I have a reminder of 
you always before me. On my desk, bere, stand two green 
Imvcb ' whidi I every morning station in their ever-green place 
At my elbow. The leaves on the oak-trees outside the window 
•re Waa oonstant than these, for they are with rae through the 
four Masons. 

Lord ! to think of the bygone day when you were stricken 
mate (was it not at (ilasgow ?) and, being mounted on a tall 
ladder at a practicable window, stared at Forsler. and with a 
noble constancy refused to utter a word! Like the Monk 
among th" pictures with WUkie, I begin to think Chat the real 
world. And this tlie sham timl goes out with the lights. 

God hlisis you both. Ever faithfully yours. 

Gab'b Him Tli«r»day Nfglil, August 25, 18SB> 

Mr DKAK FORSTKB, — Heartily glad to get your letter this 

I ennnot easily tell you how much interested I am by what 
1 l«ll me of our brave and excellent friend the ChieS ^t(ki, 
1 nonnection with thnt rufflan. 1 followed Uia casa ■w\\,\i aa 


much interest, and have followed the miBerable knaves tnd 
asses who have perverted it since, with so much indignation, 
that I have often had more than half a mind to write and thank 
the upright judge who tried him. I declare to God that I 
believe such a service one of the greatest that a man of intellect 
and courage can render to society. Of course I saw the beast 
of a prisoner (with my mind's eye) delivering his cut-and-dried 
speech, and read in every word of it that no one but the mur- 
derer could have delivered or conceived it. Of course I have 
been driving the girls out of their wits here, by incessantly 
proclaiming that there needed no medical evidence either way, 
and that the case was plain without it. Lastly, of course 
(though a merciful man — because a merciful man I mean), I 
would hang any Home Secretary (Whig, Tory, Radical, or other- 
wise) who should step in between that black scoundrel and the 
gallows. I cannot believe — and my belief in all wrong as 
to public matters is enormous — that such a thing will be done. 

I am reminded of Tennyson, by thinking that King Arthur 

would have made short work of the amiable , whom the 

newspapers strangely delight to make a sort of gentleman of. 
How fine the " Idylls " are ! Lord ! what a blessed thing it is 
to read a man who can write ! I thought nothing could be 
grander than the first poem till I came to the third ; but when 
I had read the last, it seemed to be absolutely unapproached 
and unapproacliable. 

To come to myself. I have written and begged the " All 
the Year Round" publisher to send you directly four weeks' 
proofs beyond the current num])er, that are in type. I hope you 
will like them. Nothing but the interest of the subject, and 
the pleasure of striving with the difficulty of the forms of treat- 
ment, nothing in the mere way of money, I mean, could also 
repay the time and trouble of the incessant condensation. But 
I set myself the little task of making a />iW//rcj?yM/? story, rising 
in every chapter with characters true to nature, but whom the 
story itself should express, more than they should express them- 
selves, by dialogue. I mean, in other words, that I fancied a 
story of incident might be written, in place of the bestiality 
that is written under that pretence, pounding the characters out 
in its own mortar, and beating their own interests out of them. 
If you could have read the story all at once, I hope you 
would n't have stopped halfway. 

As to coming to your retreat, my dear Forster, tbink how 
helpless I am. I am not well yet, I have an instinctive feel- 
ing that nothing but the sea will restore me, and I am planning 
to go nnd work at Ballard's, at BroadKtaits, from next Wednes- 
day to Monday. I generally go to town on Monday afternoon, 
AU Tuesday I am at the office, on Wednesday I come back 
here, and go to work again, I don't leave off till Monday cornea 
rmitiil once more. 1 am fighting to get my story done hy the 
Sist week in October. On the 10th of October I am going away 
fortniglit at Ipswich, Norwich, Oxford, CambriJge, 
few other places. Judge what my spare time is just 

, M)»«e< 


Liim vary much surprised and very sorry to find from the 
fBctosed that Elliotson has been ill. I never heard a word 
of il. 

Gi-orgy sends heat leva to you and to Mrs. Forstcr, so do T, 
so Joes Florn, so iloos Frank. The girls are, for live days, with 
the Wliilcs at Rnmegatc. It is raining, inteni^ely hot, and 
stormy. Eighteen creuturen, like little tortoises, have dashed 
the window and fallen on the paper Rince I began this 
Bph • (that was one !). 1 am a wretched pott of crea- 
. my way, but it is a way that gets on eoiiiehow. And 
»TB have the same finge>po8t at the he-ad of tliem, and at 
yeiy turaing in them. 

Ever affectionately, 


ALition, BRdADSTAIRs, Ffidar, Seplcmlier 2, 1859. 

Mv DEAREST Mamib AND Katib, — I have teen " moved " 
hi^re, and am now (Ballard having added to the hotel a house 
we iivml in three years) in our old dining-room and sitting- 
nwrn, and our old drawing-room as a bedroom. Ikly cold is so 
IaiI, both in my throat and my chest, that I can't bathe in the 
M>a: Tom Collin dissuaded me — thought it "bad" — hut I get 
■ h«Ty shower-bath at Mrs. Crampton's every morning. The 
baths ore still here and her husband's, hut they have retired 
anil livu in "Nnckells" — are going to give a atained-g^aes 
window, Taliie three hundred pounds, to St. PeWt's CiVi\nO[v. 
if of opiaion that the Miss DicVensea \u» gtov^A. 
. .^^^ asking pardoutgh 


evangelical family of most disagreeable girls prowl about hem 
and trip people up with tracts, which they put in the pttht 
with stones upon them to keep them from blowing awaj. 
Charles Collins and I having seen a bill yesterday — about a ma^ 
meric young lady who did feats, one of which was set forth m ^ 
the bill, in a line by itself, as 


— were overpowered with curiosity, and resolved to go. It 
came off in the Assembly-Koom, now more exquisitely desolate 
than words can describe. Eighteen shillings was the ^' take.'' 
Behind a screen among the company, we heard mysterious 
gurglings of water before the entertainment began, and then a 
slippery sound which occasioned me to whisper C. C. (who 
laughed in the most ridiculous manner), '^ Soap." It proved to 
be the young lady washing herself. She must have been won- 
derfully dirty, for she took a world of trouble, and did n't come 
out clean after all — in a wretched dirty muslin frock, with blue 
ribbons. She was the alleged mesmeriser, and a boy who dis- 
tributed bills the alleged mesmerised. It was a most prepoeter^ 
ous imposition, but more ludicrous than any poor sight I ever 
saw. The boy is clearly out of pantomime, and, when he pre- 
tended to be in the mesmeric state, made the company back by 
going in among them head over heels, backwards, half a dozen 
times, in a most insupportable way. The pianist had struck; 
and the manner in which the lecturer implored " some lady '' to 
play a " polker," and the manner in which no lady would ; and 
in which the few ladies who were there sat with their hats on, 
and the elastic under their chins, as if it were going to blow, is 
never to be forgotten. I have been writing all the morning, 
and am going for a walk to Eamsgate. This is a beast of a let- 
ter, but I am not well, and have been addling my head. 

Ever, dear girls, your affectionate father. 


Gad's Hill Placr, Hioham bt Rochkstkr, Kbut, 
Friday Night, September 16, 1859. 

My deab Wilkie, — Just a word to say that I have r&- 
oeived yours, and that I look forward to the reunion on Thurs- 
daji when I hope to have the satisfaction of recounting to you 


th« plot of n pUy that has been laid before me for coniincniling 

Ditto to what you aay reapecting the Great Easlem. I 
went right up lo Loudon Bridj^ by the boat that duy, on pur- 
pose tbut I might pass her. I thought her the ugliest and most 
Tinshipliko thing these eyes ever beheld. I would n't go to sea 
in her, shivw my oiild timbers anc! rouse me up with a monkey's 
tail (m&n-oE-war metaphor), not to chuck a biscuit into Davy 
Jones's weather eye, and see double with my own old toplights. 

Turk has been bo good oa to produce from his month, far the 
wholesome conBtentation of the family, eighteen feet of wonn. 
Wlien he had brought it up, he seemed to tiiink it might be 
turned to account in the housekeeping, and was proud. Fony 
bu kicked a. shaft off the carl, and ia to be sold. Why don't 
you buy her ? she 'd never kick with you. 

Barbers opinion ia, that them fruit-trees, one and all, is 
towihwood, and not fit for burning at any gentleman's fire ; also 
that the stocking of this here ganlen ia worth leas than nothing, 
becttue you would n't have to grwb up nothing, and something 
takM a man to do it at three-and-six pence a day. Was " left 
d«q>onding" by your reporter. 

I liave had immense difliciilty to find a man for the stable- 
jud here. Barber having at last engaged one this mnniing, I 
uujutred if be had a decent hat for driving in, to which Barber 
leturaed this answer : — 

" Why, sir, not to deceive yon, that man flatly say that he 
never have wore that article since man he was ! " 

I am consequently forlitied into my room, and am afraid to 
go out to look at him. Love from alL 

Ever affectionately. 


Gad's IltLL Place, HinnAu kt Ri>c»E?Teii. Ken; 
Salurdsj, October IS, 1BS9. 

Mr OBAR RtMiSiEK, — You will receive by railway parcel 
the proof-sheets of a story of mine, that has been for come time 
in proG^eS" in my weekly journal, and that will be published in & 
M>mpluf« volume about the middle of November. '^oboAy \w\ 
LjCQi^«4h*!'.re* «*"« "'o latter jwrtiona of it, or 'k^U soo tWrn, 
int you to read it iot two 


Firstly, because I liope it is the best story I liaye written. 
Secondly, because it treats of a very remaikable time in France; 
and I Bhould very much like to know wliat you think of ita 
being dramatised for a French theatre. If yoii should think it 
likely to be done, I should be glad to take eome eteps towards 
bftving it well dono. The story is on extraordinary socceas 
bere, and I think the end of it is certain to make a still greater 

Don't trouble yourself to write to me, mon ami, until you ahall 
have bad time to read the proofs. Kememher, they are proafi, 
and private ; the latter chapters will not be before the public 
for five or six weeks to come. 

With kind regards to Madame Eegnier, in which my daughters 
and their aunt unite, 

Believe me, ever faithfully youre. 

P. S, — The story (I dare say you have not seen any of it yet) 
is callcU " A Tale of Two Cities." 



This is » place which — except the cathedral, vrith tho loveliest 
frout I ever saw — is like the back door to eome other place. 
It U, I should hope, the deadest and most utti^rly inert little 
town in the British dominioDs. The magnatoe have takeu 
places, and the bookseller is of opinion that " such is the deter 
mination to do honour to Mr. Dickens, that the doora munt be 
npeneJ half an hour before the appointed time." You will pic- 
ture to yourself Arthur's quiet bidignation at this, and the 
manner in which ho remarked to me at dinner, " that he turned 
Bway twice Peterborough last night." 

A very pretty room — though a Corn Exchange — and a room 
we ahoulil have been glad of at Catii bridge, as it ia lai^, bright, 
and cheerful, and wonderfully well lighted. 

The difficulty of getting to Bradford from here to-morrow, at 
any time convenient to us, turned out to be so great, that wo 
■re all going in for Leeds (only three quarters of an hour from 
Bradford) to-night after the reading, at a quarter past eleven. 
We are due at Leeds a quarter before three. 

So no more at present from. 

Yours affectionately. 



Wedoeadaj-, Novembir 18, 1859- 
My i>k.*r Rkoniek. — I send you ten thousand thanks tor 
yuui kind and explicit letter. What I particularly wished to 
wceiUin from you was, whether it is likely the C'cnsor would 
(Uow such a pieue to be played in Paris. In the case of its 
Wng likely, then I wished to faave the piece as well done as 
pa»ible, and would even have proposed lo come to Paria to eee 
i'mhMtsed. Hut I very much doubted whether the general 
wVjett would not be objectionable to the Government, and what 
7m writs with so much sagacity and with such care convinces 
t"B tl onc« that its representation would be prohibited. There- 
^ I altogether abondon and relinquish the idea. But I am 
Jul u lieartily and cordially obliged to you for your interest 
J™ friondahip, as if the book had been turned into a play tlvft 
liiiadnf^ limea. I again thank you ten thouaan4 Umfts, wvi. 
fcrnL^TpSZ-a"* "■*' J""" *"* '■'S''t- I only hope you ■wVVV lot^-Na 


My girls and Georgitia send their kindefit regnrds to Madame 
Regiiier and to you. My Gad'a Hill Iioubb (I think I oraitteii 
to toll you, in reply to your inquiry) is on the very scene of 
Falstafl's robbery. There is a. little cabaret at the roftdside, 
Btill [:Blled The Sir John Falstaff. And the country, in all iU 
general featurea, ia at tbia time what it was in ShnkespeaFc's. 
I hope you will see the house before long. It ia really a pretty 
place, and a good residence for an English writer, is it not ? 

Macready, we are all happy to hear from himself, is going to 
leave the dreary tonih iu which he lives, at Sherborne, and 
to remove to Cheltenham, a large and handsome place, about 
four or five hours' railway journey from London, where his poor 
girls will at least see and hear some life. Madame Celeste was 
with me yesterday, wishing to dramatise " A Tale of Two 
Cities" for t!io Lyceum, after bringing out the Christmns pao- 
tomime. 1 gave her ray permission and the book ; but I fear 
that her company (troupe) is a very poor one. 

This is all the news I have, except (which is do news at all) 
that I feet as if I hud not seen you for Gfty years, and that 
r attached and faithful friend. 

WlLKIE G0LUN8 115 


Tavutock Houbs, MoDday, January 9^ I860. 

Mt DBABK8T Macbeady, — A happy Kew Year to you, and 
many happy years I I cannot tell you how delighted I was to 
leeeive your Christmas letter, or with what pleasure I have 
reeeived Forster's emphatic accounts of your health and spirits. 
Bat when was I ever wrong ? And when did I not tell you 
that you were an impostor in pretending to grow older as the 
nst of us do, and that you had a secret of your own for revers- 
ing the usual process ! It happened that I read at Chelten- 
him a couple of months ago, and that I have rarely- seen a place 
that 80 attracted my fancy. I had never seen it before. Also 
I believe the character of its people to have greatly changed for 
the better. All sorts of long-visaged prophets had told me that 
they were dull, stolid, slow, and I don't know what more that 
k disagreeable. I found them exactly the reverse in all re- 
spects ; and I saw an amount of beauty there — well — that is 
not to be more specifically mentioned to you young fellows. 

Katie dined with us yesterday, looking wonderfully well, and 
singing " Excelsior " with a certain dramatic fire in her, 
whereof I seem to remember having seen sparks afore now. 
Etc., etc, etc 

With kindest love from all at home to all with you. 

Ever, my dear Macready, your most affectionate. 


Tavistock House, Tavistock Squark, London, W. C, 

Saturday Night, January 7, 1860. 

My dear Wilkie, — I have read this book with great care 
and attention. There cannot be a doubt that it is a very great 
advance on all your former writing, and most especially in re- 
spect of tenderness. In character it is excellent. Mr. Fairlie 
as good as the lawyer, and the lawyer as good as he. Mr. Vesey 
and Miss Halcombe, in their different ways, equally meritorious. 
Sir Percival, also, is most skilfully shown, though I doubt (you 
see what small points I come to) whether any man ever showed 
uneasiness by hand or foot without being forced by nature to 
show it in his face too. The story is very interesting, and the 
writing of it admirable. 


I seem to have noticed, here and there, that the great paics 
you take express themselves a trifle too much, and you knon' 
that I alwaja conteet your disposi lion to give uu audience credit 
for notliing, which necessarily involves the forcing of points on 
their attention, and which I have always ohserved them to re- 
sent when they find it out — as they always will and do. But 
on turning to the hook again, I find it difficult to take out aa 
instance of this. It rather belongs to your habit of tbnught and 
manner of going about the work. Perhaps I express my mean- 
ing beat when I say that the throe people who write the narra- 
tives in these proofs have a dissective property in common, 
which is essentially not theirs hut yours ; and that my own 
effort would he to strike more of what is got that way out of 
them by collision with one another, and by the working of tiie 

Yon know what an interest I have felt in your powers from 
the beginning of our friendship, and how very high I rate them ? 
/ know that this is an admirable book, and that it grips the 
diflUcultiea of the weekly portion and throws them in masterly 
style. No one else could do it half so well. I have stopped 


I hod turned liut a few pa^e, and come to the ehodovr on the 
briglit sofa at tiie foot of tLe bed, when I knew myself to be in 
tlie bands of aa artist. That raru and delightful recognition I 
ncTsr lost for a moment until I closed the second volume at 
the end. I nm " a good audicQCO " when I have reason to be, 
and my girb would testify to you, if there were need, that 1 
cried over it heartily. Your story seems to me remarkably in- 
gcnioos. I had not the least idea of the purport of the sealed 
paper until you chose to enlighten me ; aud then I felt it to 
be quite natural, quite easy, thoroughly in keeping with the 
chaiacter aiid presentation of the Liverpool man. Tlie ]>osition 
of Hie Bell family in the story has a special air of nature Rnd 
truth ; ia quite new to nic, and is so dexterously and delicately 
Aoue that I lind the deaf daughter no leas real and distinct than 
the clergyman's wife. The turn of the story round tliat dam- 
luhle Princens I pursued with a pleasure with which I could 
piimie uolbiug but a tnio interest ; and I declare to you that 
if I«ei« put Upon finding anything better than the scone of 
Roecabella's death, I should stare rouitd my bookshelves very 
nmch at a loss for a long time. Similarly, your characters have 
irally Biirpriecd me. From the lawyer to the Priuceas, I swear 
to them as true ; nad in your fathoming of Rosamond altogether, 
tH»n is a profound wise knowledge that I admire and respect 
*ith a heartiness not easily overstated in words. 

J am not quite with you as to the Italians. Your knowledge 
ot the Italian character seems lo me surprisingly subtle and 
psnottating ; but I think we owe it to those most unhappy men 
wd their political wrotchednese to ask ourselves mercifully, 
*b«tlii-r their faults are not eftaeutiolly the faults of a people 
long oppressed and priest-ridden; — whether their tendency to 
tliiik and conspire is not a tendency that spies in every drcsa, 
'nm tlie triple crown to a lousy head, have engendereil in tlicir 
KicBstOTB through generations ? Again, like you, I shudder at 
"6 distreMca that come of thene unavailing risings ; my blood 
^Di hotter, as yours does, at the thought of the leaders aafe, 
•od Iba instruments perishing by hundreds ; yet what is to be 
^e ? Their wrongs are so great that they irill rise from lime 
to time fomrfaow. It would lie to doubt the ctetnB.V \iTOV\'VftT\'}e 
»f Rod to doubt that they wiJJ rise auceessf utty al W\.. "Vliv- 
"*" '"" Kffunsl a dominant tyranny ^tecciu «K\. 
And is it not a Uvi\e \«i.t4 m >i». 


Englishmen, whose forefathers have risen so often and striven 
against so much, to iook on, in our own security, through 
microscopes, and detect the motes in the brains of men driven 
mad ? Tiiink, if you and I were Italians, and had grown 
from boyhood to our present time, menaced in every day 
through all these years by that infernal confesaioaal, dungeons, 
and soldiers, could we be better than these men ? Should 
we bo BO good ? I shonid not, I am afraid, it I know myself. 
Such things would make of me a moody, bloodthirsty, impla- 
cable man, who would do anything for revenge ; and if I 
compromised the truth — put it at the worst, habitually — 
where should I ever have bad it before me ? In the old 
Jesuita' college at Genoa, on the Chinja at Naples, in the 
churches of Rome, at the University of Padua, on the I'iaao 
San Marco at Venice, where ? And the government ie in all 
these places, and in all Italian places. I have seen something 
of these men. I have known Mazzini and Gallenga ; Mnnin 
was tutor to my daughters in Paris; I have had long talks 
about scores of them with poor Ary Schetfer, who was their 
best friend. I have gone back to Italy after ten ; 



DKAK FoRSTEB, — It did not occur to me in reading 
jGta Riosl excellent, luteresting, and remarkable book,^ that il 
conld with any reason be called one-sided, l! Clarendon had 
never written his " History of the Eebellion," then I can un- 
derstand tluit it might be. But just as it would be impioaaible 
to answer an advocate who had misstated the merits of a case 
for hifl own [iiirpose, without, in the interests of truth, and not 
■»! the other side merely, re-stating the merits and showing them 
in their real form, bo I cannot see the practicability of telling 
wliat you had to tell without iu some sort championing the mis- 
npnueoted side, and I think that you don't do that as an advo- 
<Me, but US a judge. 

"nie evitlencB has been suppressed and coloured, and the 
judge goes through it and puts it straight. It is not his fault 
>l it all goes one way and tends to one plain conclusion. Nor 
W it hia fault that it goes the further when il is laid out straight, 
Of Menu to do bo, because it was so knotted and twisted up 

I can nnclerstand any man's, and particularly Carlyle'a, 
hating a lingL-Hng respect that does not like to be disturbed for 
those (in the beat sense of the word) loyal gentlemen of the 
couatTj- who went witli the king and were so true to him. Hut 
1 ilon't think Carlyle sufficiently considpra that the great maaa 
•■I those gentlemen didn't know thr truth, that it was a part of 
tW loyalty to believe what they were told on the king's 
Wialf, and that it is reaaotmble to suppose that the king was 
ton artful to make known to them, (especially after failure) 
*luil wwe very acceptable designs to the desperato soldiers of 
fortuae almut Whitohall. And it was to me a curious point of 
■iventilious interest orifling o\it of your book, to reflect on the 
pwfobility of their baviug been as ignorant of the real scheme 
"iCharlra's head, as their descendants and followers down to 
*>i lime, and to think with pity and admiiallois ft\a.\. Wc's 
'*lieT#d the Muaa to he ^ much bolter than it wtift. t\\\& w a 
to iave expressed in our accownt q1 ^BIb 
/nipejcfiment o( ihe Five Member*. 


book in these pages. For I don't suppose Clarendon or any 
other such man to nit down and tell poeterity something that he 
has not " tried on " in his own time. Do you ? 

In the whole narrative I saw nothing nnywhero to which I 
demurred. I admired it all, went with it all, and was proud of 
my friend's having ^vritten it all. I felt it to be all square and 
sound and right, and to be of enonnous importance in these 
times. Firetly, to tlie people who (like myself) are eo sick of 
the shortcomings of repre.'ientative government aa to hove no 
interest in it. Secondly, to the humbugs at Westminster who 
have come down — a long, .long way — from those men, as jou 
know. When the Great Remonstrance came out, I was in the 
thick of mj storj , and was aluays busy with it ; but I am very 
glad I did n't rend it then, as I shall read it now to much belter 
purjMse. All the time I was at work on the " Two Cities," I 
read no hooka but luch aa had the air of the time in them. 

To return for a final word to the Five Members. I thought 
the marginal rf firencen overdone Here and there, they had a 
comical look to me for that reason, and reminded aie of showj 
ami plays where everything is in the bill. 


I rakl to matrimony (that I know of) ; but it is likely enough 
[ thftt she will, as she is very agreeable and intelligent. They 
ire both very pretty. My eldest boy, Charley, has been in 
r Barings' house for three or four years, and is now going to 
I Hoog Kong, strongly backed up by Barings, to buy tea on his 
I oirn ftcoount, as a means of forming a connection and seeing 
man of the practical part of a merchant's calling, before start- 
ing in London for himself. His brother Frank (Jeffrey's god- 
ion) I have just recalled from France and Germany, to come 
ind learn business, and qualify himself to join his brother on 
his return from the Celestial Empire. The next boy, Sydney 
Smith, is designed for the navy, and is in training at Ports- 
moath, awaiting his nomination. He is about three foot high, 
with the biggest eyes ever seen, and is known in the Ports- 
month parts as ^* Young Dickens, who can do everything." 

Another boy is at school in France ; the youngest of all has 

a private tutor at home. I have forgotten the second in order, 

who is in India. He went out as ensign of a non-existent 

miive regiment, got attached to the 42d Highlanders, one of 

the finest regiments in the Queen's service ; has remained with 

them ever since, and got made a lieutenant by the chances of 

the rebellious campaign, before he was eighteen. Miss Hogarth, 

always Miss Hogarth, is the guide, philosopher, and friend of 

ail the party, and a very close affection exists between her and 

the girls. I doubt if she will ever marry. I don't know 

whether to be glad of it or sorry for it. 

I have laid down my pen and taken a long breath after 'writ- 
ing this family history. I have also considered whether there 
are any more children, and I don't think there are. If I should 
remember two or three others presently, I will mention them in 
a postscript. 

We think Townshend looking a little the worse for the 
winter, and we perceive Bully to. be decidedly old upon his 
legs, and of a most diabolical turn of mind. When they first 
arrived the weather was very dark and cold, and kept them in- 
doors. It has since turned very warm and bright, but with a 
dusty and sharp east wind. They are still kept indoors by this 
change, and I begin to wonder what change will let them out. 
Townshend dines with us every Sunday. You may be sure 
that we always talk of you and yours, and drink to you 


Public matteK here *n Ifaonght to be nther improving; the 
dn{i mi^ru^ of the geatleman in Paris being comiteracted by 
the rigorous state of piepuUtoB into which the nation is get- 
ting. Yoa trill h«T« obeened, of coarse, that we establish a 
new defiolter in respect of some gn*t trust, about once a quar- 
ter. Tbe last oae, tb« cashier of a Citj* bank, ia considered to 
hare distingaisbed biiBaelf gicatlj, a quarter of a million of 
money being K^b gune. 

Xo. my friend, I have not shouldered mi rifie yet, but I 
should do eo on more pressing occaiooa. Every other man In 
tbe row of men I know — if tbey wete all put in a row — is i 
ToIant«er though. There is a tendency rather to overdo the 
wearing of tbe uniform, but that is natural enough in tbe cew 
of tbe youngest men. The tora-oat is generally very creditable 
indeed. At the ball they had (in a perfectly unrentUsted build- 
ing), their new leather belts and pooches smelt so fearfully that 
it was, as my eldest daughter said, like shoemaking in a great 
prison. She. consequently, dtstiaguisheid herself by fainting 
away in the most inaccetsihle place in the whole structure, and 
being brought out (horuontally) by a file of TolonteerB, like 





I In the first place, although the surrender of the feudal privi- 

I legei (on a motion seconded by a nobleman of great rank) was 

I the occasion of a sentimental scene, I see no reason to doubt, 

I bat on the contrary, many reasons to believe, that some of these 

I pririleges had been used to the frightful oppression of the 

I peisant, quite as near to the time of the Revolution as the 

I doctor's narrative, which, you will remember, dates long before 

I the Terror. And surely when the new philosophy was the talk 

I of the salons and the slang of the hour, it is not unreasonable 

I or unallowable to suppose a nobleman wedded to the old cruel 

ideas, and representing the time going out, as his nephew repre- 

Knts the time coming in ; as to the condition of the peasant in 

F^ce generally at that day, I take it that if anything be cer- 

I tain on earth it is certain that it was intolerable. Ko ex post 

futo inquiries and provings by figures will hold water, surely, 

against the tremendous testimony of men living at the time. 

There is a curious book printed at Amsterdam, written to 
make out no case whatever, and tiresome enough in its literal, 
dictionary-like minuteness, scattered up and down the pages of 
which is full authority for my marquis. This is " Mercier's 
Tableau de Paris." Rousseau is the authority for the peasant's 
shutting up his house when he had a bit of meat. The tax- 
taker was the authority for the wretched creature's impoverish- 

I am not clear, and I never have been clear, respecting that 
eanon of fiction which forbids the interposition of accident in 
SQch a case as Madame Defarge's death. Where the accident is 
inseparable from the passion and emotion of the character, where 
it is strictly consistent with the whole design, and arises out of 
some culminating proceeding on the part of the character which 
the whole story has led up to, it seems to me to become, as it 
were, an act of divine justice. And when I use Miss Pross 
(though this is quite another question) to bring about that 
catastrophe, I have the positive intention of making that half- 
comic intervention a part of the desperate woman's failure, and 
of opposing that mean death — instead of a desperate one in the 
streeta, which she would n't have minded — to the dignity of 
Carton's wrong or right ; this was the design, and seemed to be 
in the fitness of things. 

Now, as to the reading. I am sorry to say that it is out of 
the question this season. I have had an attack of rheumatism 


— i)\utc a stranger to me — which remains hovering about my 
left side, after Ijaving doubled me up in tlie back, and which 
would disable me from standing for two bours. I have given 
up all diuners and town engagements, and come to my little 
FalstafF house here, senaiblc of the necessity of country train- 
ing all through the summer. Smith would have proposed any 
appointment to see you on the subject, but he has been dread- 
fully ill with tic. Whenever I read in London, I will gladly 
put a night aside for your prirpose, and we will plot to connect 
your name with it, and give it some epecialty. But this could 
not he before Christmas-time, as I should not be able to read 
sooner, for in the hot weather it would be useless. Let me heat 
from you alwut this when you have considered it. It wonld 
greatly dimuiish the expenses, remember. 

Ever afTectionaleiy and faithfully. 


W. H. WILLS 125 


Office of "All the Tear Rouwd," 

Tuesday, September 4, 1860. 

My dear Wills, — Your description of vour sea-castlo makes 
jour room here look uncommonly dusty. Likewise the coster- 
mongers in the street outside, and the one customer (drunk, 
vith his head on the table) in the Crown Coffee-House over the 
njf in York Street, have an earthy, and, as I may say, a land- 
hbberly aspect. Cape Horn, to the best of my belief, is a 
tremendous way off, and there are more bricks and cabbage- 
ieares between this office and that dismal point of land than 
ym can possibly imagine. 

Coming here from the station this morning, I met, coming 
from the execution of the Wentworth murderer, such a tide of 
mfiSans as never could have flowed from any point but the gal- 
loirs. Without any figure of speech it turned one white and 
dek to behold them. 

Tavistock House is cleared to-day, and possession delivered 
up. I must say that in all things the purchaser has beliavcd 
thoroughly well, and that I cannot call to mind any occasion 
when I have had money dealing with a Christian that have 
heen so satisfactory, considerate, and trusting. 

I am ornamented at present with one of my most intensely 
preposterous and utterly indescribable colds. If you were to 
make a voyage from Cape Horn to Wellington Street, you would 
scarcely recognise in the bowed form, weeping eyes, rasped nose, 
and snivelling wretch whom you would encounter here, the 
once gay and sparkling, etc., etc. 

Everything else here is as quiet as possible. Business reports 
you receive from Holsworth. Wilkie looked in to-day, going 
to Gloucestershire for a week. Tlie office is full of discarded 
curtains and coverings from Tavistock House, which Georgina 
is coming up this evening to select from and banish. Mary is 
in raptures with the beauties of Dunkeld, but is not very well 
in health. The Admiral (Sydney) goes up for liis examination 
to-morrow. If he fails to pass with credit, I will never be- 
lieve in anybody again, so in that case look out for your own 
reputation with me. 

This 18 really all the news I have, except that I am lazy, 


and that Wilkie liinea liere next Tuesday, in order that we may 
have a talk about the Christmas nurabtr. 

I beg to fiend my kind regard to Mrs, Wills, and to inqiure 
bow siio likes wearing a hat, which of course she doea. I aled 
want to know from her iu confidence whether CricUin festidi- 
niog Utjmthll y wudd ? 

Yesterday I burnt, in the field at Gad's Hill, the aecnmu- 
latcd letters and papers o( twenty years. They sent up a ainoke 
like the genie when he gut out of the casket ou the seashoK; 
and ae it was an exquisite day when I began, and rained vefy 
heaviJy when 1 finished, I suspect my correspondence of baviug 
overcast the face of the heavens. 

Ever faithfully, 

P. S. — Kind regard to Mr. and Mrs. Novelli.' 
I have just sent out for " The Globe." No news. 
Hullab's daughter (an artist) tella mc that certain female sto- 
dents have addressed the R«yal Academy, entreating them to 
find a place for their education. I think it a capital move, for 
which I can do something popular and telling in " The T 


an ease and frankness with a modesty and sense of responsibility 
that was really above all praise. Alfred went from there to a 
gieit school at Wimbledon, where they train for India and the 
trtillerj and engineers. Sydney went from there to Mr. Bar- 
wWf at Southsea. In both instances the new masters wrote to 
ae of their own accord, bearing quite unsolicited testimony to 
tbe merits of the old, and expressing their high recognition of 
what they had done. These things speak for themselves. 

Sydney has just passed his examination as a naval cadet and 

eome home, all eyes and gold buttons. He has twelve days' 

kave before going on board the training-ship. Katie and her 

kaband are in France, and seem likely to remain there for an 

indefinite period. Mary is on a month's visit in Scotland ; 

Geoigina, Frank, and Plom are at home here ; and we all want 

Maiy and her little dog back again. I have sold Tavistock 

House, am making this rather complete in its way, and am 

on the restless eve of beginning a new big book ; but mean to 

have a famished house in town (in some accessible quarter) 

faom February or so to June. May we meet there. 

Your handwriting is always so full of pleasant memories to 
me, that when I took it out of the post-ofiice at Rochester this 
afternoon it quite stirred my heart. But we must not think of 
old times as sad times, or regard them as anytliing but the 
fathers and mothers of the present. We must all climb steadily 
np the mountain after the talking-bird, the singing-tree, and the 
yellow water, and must all bear in mind tliat the previous 
climbers who were scared into looking back got turned into 
Uack stone. 

'Mary Boyle was here a little while ago, as affectionate at 
heart as ever, as young, and as pleasant. Of course we talked 
often of you. So let me know when you are established in 
Half-Moon Street, and I shall be truly delighted to come and 
see you. 

For my attachments are strong attachments, and never 
weaken. In right of bygones, I feel as if **all Northampton- 
shire" belonged to me, as all Northumberland did to Lord 
Bateman in the ballad. In memory of your warming your feet 
at the fire in that waste of a waiting-room when I read at 
Brighton, I have ever since taken that watering-place to my 
bosom as I never did before. And you and Switzerland are 
always one to me, and always inseparable. 


Charley was heard of yesterday, from Shanghai, going 
Japan, intending to meet his brother Walter at Calcutta, 
having an idea of beguiling the time between whiles by 
to be taken as an amateur with the English Chinese fc 
Everybody caressed him and asked him everywhere, and 
seemed to go. With kind regards, my dear Mrs. Watson, 

Ever affectionately yours. 


Gad's Hill Place, Hioham bt Rochkstkk, Kemk, 

Sunda}', September S3, 1860. 

My dear E. Y., — I did not write to you in your bereaft» 
ment,^ because I knew that the girls had written to you, and 
because I instinctively shrunk from making a form of what wai 
so real. You knew what a loving and faithful remembranei 
I always had of your mother as a part of my youth — no moit 
capable of restoration than my youth itself. All the womanly 
goodness, grace, and beauty of my drama went out with her. 
To the last I never could hear her voice without emotion. I 
think of her as of a beautiful part of my own youth, and thii 
dream that we are all dreaming seems to darken. 

But it is not to say this that I write now. It comes to the 
point of my pen in spite of me. 

" Holding up the Mirror " is in next week's number. I 
have taken out all this fimeral part of it. Not because I dis- 
liked it (for, indeed, I thought it the best part of the paper), 
but because it rather grated on me, going over the proof at that 
time, as a remembrance that would be better reserved a little 
while. Also because it made rather a mixture of yourself as 
an individual, with something that does not belong or attach to 
you as an individual. You can have the MS. ; and as a part 
of a paper describing your own juvenile remembrances of a 
theatre^ there it is, needing no change or adaption. 

Ever faithfully. 

1 The death of his mother. 



Gad's Hill Place, Hioram by Rochester, Kent, 

Sunday, September 23, 1860. 

My dsabest Mamie, — If you had been away from us and 
ill with anybody in the world but our dear Mrs. White, I 
should have been in a state of the greatest anxiety and uneasi- 
ness about you. But as I know it to be impossible that you 
eoald be in kinder or better hands, I was not in the least rest- 
less about you, otherwise than as it grieved me to hear of my 
poor dear girl's suffering such pain. I hope it is over now for 
many a long day, and that you will come back to us a thousand 
times better in health than you left us. 

Don't come back too soon. Take time and get well restored. 
There is no hurry, the house is not near to-rights yet, and 
though we all want you, and though Boy wants you, we all 
(including Boy) deprecate a fatiguing journey being taken too 

As to the carpenters, they are absolutely maddening. They 
are always at work, yet never seem to do anything. Lillie was 
down on Friday, and said (his eye fixed on Maidstone, and 
robbing his hand to conciliate his moody employer) that " he 
did n't think there would be very much left to do after Satur- 
day, the 29th." 

I did n't throw him out of the window. Your aunt tells 
jou all the news, and leaves me no chance of distinguishing 
myself, I know. You have been told all about my brackets in 
the drawing-room, all about the glass rescued from the famous 
stage-wreck of Tavistock House, all about everything here and 
at the office. The office is really a success. As comfortable, 
cheerful, and private as anything of the kind can possibly be. 

I took the Admiral (but this you know too, no doubt) to 
Dollond's, the mathematical instrument-maker's, last Monday, 
to buy that part of his outfit. His sextant (which is about the 
size and shape of a cocked hat), on being applied to his eye, 
entirely concealed him. Not the faintest visage of the dis- 
tinguished officer behind it was perceptible to the human vision. 
All through the City, people turned round and stared at him 
with the sort of pleasure people take in a little model. We 
went on to Chatham this day week, in search of some big man- 



of-warVman who filionld 1* under oWigation to salute him — 
uiifoctunati'Iy found none. But this no doubt you know too, 
and all my news falls flat. 

I nni driven out of my room by point, and am writing in the 
best Bparc nioni. The whole prospect is exccasively wet ; it 
does not rain now, but yesterday it did tremendously, and it 
rained very heavily in the night. We are even muddy; and 
that is tmying a great deal in thie dry country of chalk and 
sand. Everywhere the corn is lying out and saturated with 
wet. The hopa (nearly everywhere) look as if they had been 

In my mind's eye I behold Sirs. Bouncer, atill with some 
traces of her late anxiety on her faithful countenance, lialancing 
herself a little unequally on her bow fore legs, pricking up h?r 
ears, with her head on one Bide, and elightly opening her intel- 
lectual noatriia. I send my loving and respectful duty to her. 

To dear Mrs. White, and to Whit*, and to Clara, say any- 
thing from me that is loving and grateful. 

My dearest Mamie, 

Ever and ever your most affectionate father. 



denying that he looks very email aboard a great 

[ that a boy must have a strong and decided specialty 

toe the sea to take to such a life. CaptaiD Harris was not on 
board, but the other chief officers were, and were highly obli- 
ging. We went over the ship. I should say there can be Httle 
or no individuality of address to any particular boy, but that 
they sll tumble through their education in a crowded woy. 
The Admiral'a servant (I mean our Admiral's) hod on idiotic 
appearance, hut perhape it did him injustice (o mahogany-faced 
Dtrine by station). The Admiral's washing apparatus is about 
the uxe of a muffin-plate, ond he could easily live in his chest. 
Tlie meeting with Bromley was a piece of great good fortune, 
tod the dear old chap could not have been left more happily. 
Ever, my dearest Georgy, your most affectionate. 



OmcB o? "Ali, the Tear Roiutn," 

Tuesdsy, September 26, IMO. 

rnEAR MARfirKRlTE, — I like the article exceedingly, 
Mil ihink the translations admirable — spirited, fresh, bold, 
ridcntly faithful, I will get the paper into the next 
numWr I make op, No. 78. I will send a proof to you for 
Jflur correction, either next Monday or this day week. Or 
would you like to come hero next Monday and dine with ws at 
I bfi uul go over to Madame Celeste's opening ? Then you 
eet your paper on the premises, as they drink their 
e beer-ehops. 
• of the introductory remarks on French literature I pro- 
l^striko out, as a little loo essnyiml for this purpose, and 
) throw out a large portion of the large audience at 
I, as snggesting some very different kind of article. My 
to Bhall have imbued its murderous heart with ink 
n see the proof. 
h luud regards, Kver afTectionately. 



Gad's Biu. Flicb, Hichaji bt RocmuTnn. Kext, 

Thuradny, Oclober 1, 1860. 

My dear Forstkk, — It would be a gnat pleasure to me to 
come to you, an immeuse pleasure, and to sniiT the sen I lova 
(from the shore) ; but I fear 1 must come down one moraing 
and come back at night. I will tell you why. 

Last week, I got to work on a now story. I called a council 
of war at the office ou Tuesday. It was perfectly clear that 
the one thing to bo done was, for me to strike in. I havo 
therefore decided to begin a story, the length of the " Tale of 
Two Cities," ou the lat of December — begin publishing, that 
ia. I must make the most I can out of the book. Wheu I 
come down, I will bring you tlie first two or three weekly 
parts. The name is, "Great Espectatioks." I think a 

Now the preparations to get ahead, combined with the abso- 
lute necessity of my giving a good deal of time to the Christmaa 



Orrics OP " All the Teab Rouhii." 

Wedaesdi}', October 24, 1B«I. 

V DEAR WiLKiR, — I have been down to Brighton to see 
ToTBter, and found your letter there on arriving by exprese this 
morning. 1 also found a letter from Georgina, describing that 
Maiy'B horse went down aaddenly on n stone, and how Mary 
I tliroivn, and had her ridiug-Labit torn to pieces, and haa a 
deep cut just above the knee — fortunately not in the knee 
Hadf, which ia doing exceedingly well, but which will probably 
illMpacitate her from walking for days and days to come. It ia 
well it WM no worse. The accident occurred at Milton, near 
Gttvesend, and they found Mary in a public-house there, won- 
derfully taken care of and looked aft«r. 

1 propose that we etart on Thursday morning, the let of 
November. The train for Penzance leaves the Great Western 
tmninuB at a quarter-past nine in the morning. It is a twelve 
hour*' journey. Shall we meet at the terminuB at nine ? I 
thUl he here all the previous day, and ehall dine here. 

Your account of your passage goes to my heart through my 
Etnmach. Wiiat a pity I was not there on board to present that 
BTWD-visnged, but sweetr-tenipered and uncomplaining apectacle 
d imbecility, at which I am bo expert under atormy circum- 
1, in the poet's phrase : — 

I a pity I am not there, at Meurice's, to sleep the sleep 

" *l%!tney through the long plays where the gentlemen stand 

fith their backs to the mantelpieces. What a pity T am not 

_ Q to make a third at the Troie FWrcs, and drink no end 

•I bottles of Bordeaux, without evLT getting a touch of redness 

aj ([wpt's phrase again) " innocent nose." But I must go 

B to Gad's to-night, and get to work again. Four weekly 

9 have been ground off the wheel, and at least another 

I turned before we meet. They shall be joms m ftv« 

lens rmlwar carriage. 

B't think Forsler is at all in good tealtk. Ke 'Ht* Xs*- 
■'" '■"-pitable and hearty, I walked six \iouia *~ 

iL&X;i»- ^J 


half on the downs yeat-erday, and never stopped or sat. Early 
in the moniing, before breakfast, I went to tlie nearest baths 
to get B shower-bath. They kept me waiting longer than I 
thought reasonable, and seeing a man in a cap in the passage, 
•I went to him and said : " I really must request that you 'U 
bo good enough to see about this shower-bath ; " and it was 
HuUah ! waiting for another bath. 

Rumours were brought into the house on Saturday nighti 
that there was a "ghost" up at Larkiaa's monument. Plom 
was frightened to death, and I was apprehensive of the ghoet's 
spreading and coming there, and causing " warning " and deser- 
tion among the servants. Frank was at home, and Andrew 
Gordon was with us. Time, nine o'clock. VUIage talk and 
credulity, amazing. I armed the two boys with a short stick 
apiece, and shouldered ray double-barrelled gun, well loaded 
with shot, " Now observe," says I to the domesticB, " if any- 
body is playing tricks and has got a head, I '11 blow it oS." 
Immense impression. New groom evidently convinced that ha 
has entered the service of a bloodthirsty demon. We ascend to 
the monument. Stop at the gat«. Moon is rising. Heavy 



Gut's lliu, Wedoetdsy, aj«t Oftobef, 1860. 

My DKAa Sia John, — First let lua congratulate you on 
jour marriage and wish you all happiness and prosperity. 

Secondly, I must tell you that I was greatly vexed with the 
Cbttbaia people for not giving me early notice of your lecture. 
In that caw I should (of uoiirsse) have presided, as President of 
Hx Institution, and I should have asked you to honour my 
Filstoff IwUHO liere. But when they made your kind inten- 
tion known to me, I had made sume important business en- 
gigeiaeiits at the " All the Year Hound " ollioe for that even- 
ing, vbich I cuuld not poseihly forego. I charged them to tell 
jou (o, and waa going to write to you when I found your kind 

Thuiks for your paper, which I have sent to the Printer'a 
wiili much pleasure. 

We beard of your accident here, and of your "making no- 
Uui^ at it." I Eoid that you did n't make much of disasters, 
nd that yon took poii^u (from natives) as quite a matter of 
NUtse in the way of business. 

Faithfully youre. 


Binnrou), Kokth Devoit, Thuriday Nit-lit. November 1, 1B80. 

DBAKKST GkoroY, — I write (with the most impracti- 
«ble iron [ten on earth) to report our safe arrival here, in a 
beutly hotel. We atart to-morrow morning at nine on a two 
iij%' posting between this and Liskcard in Cornwall. We are 
iue in Liskeanl (hut nobody seems to know ajiything about the 
ndi)) on Saturday aft«mrion, and we purpose making an cxcur- 
ono in that neigh hour bond on Sunday, and coming up from 
Uikeaid on Monthly by Great Western fast train, which will 
plus lo London, please God, in good time on Monday evening. 
Thma 1 shall hear from you, and know whether dear Mamie 
*ill DOve to London too. 

Wb had a pleasint journey down here, and a \«.n.iil\ttt\ Ar'^, 
fla gdveatann vh&tever, JSothing luu Lappeoed \iQ "^"i^iB, 


Wp had stinking iish for dinner, and have heen able to drink 
notliiiiy, though we have ordered wine, beer, and brandy and 
water. There is nothing in the house but two t*rts and a pair 
of snuffers. The landlady is playing cribbage with the landlord 
in the next room (behind a thin partition), and tboy seem quite 

Ever, my dearest Georgy, your moat affectionate. 

My dear Layard, — 1 know you will readily believe that 
I would come if I could, and that I am heartily sorry I cannot. 

A new story of my writing, nine months long, iti Just begun 
in "All the Year Round," A certain allotment of my tima 
when I have that story demand upon me, has, all through my 
author-life, been an essential condition of my health and suc- 
cess. I have just returned hero to work so many hours every 
day for so many days. It ia really impossible for me to break 



Office of "All the Year Roumd," 
Friday, December 28, 1860. 

My dear Mary, — I cannot tell you how much I thank 
you for the beautiful cigar-case, and how seasonable, and 
friendly, and good, and warm-hearted it looked when I opened 
it at Gad's Hill. Besides which, it is a cigar-case, and will 
hold cigars ; two crowning merits that I never yet knew to be 
possessed by any article claiming the same name. For all of 
these reasons, but more than all because it comes from you, I 
loTe it, and send you eighteen hundred and sixty kisses, with 
one in for the new year. 

Both excellent stories and perfectly new. Your Joe swears 
that he never heard either — never a word or syllable of either 
— afore he laughed at 'em this blessed day. 

I have no news, except that I am not quite well, and am 
being doctored. Pray read " Great Expectations." I think it 
is very droll. It is a very great success, and seems universally 
liked. I suppose because it opens funnily, and with an interest 

I pass my time here (I am staying here alone) in working, 
taking physic, and taking a stall at a theatre every night. On 
Boxing-Night I was at Covent Garden. A dull pantomime 
was "worked" (as we say) better than I ever saw a heavy 
piece worked on a first night, until suddenly and without a 
moment's warning, every scene on that immense stage fell over 
on its face, and disclosed chaos by gaslight behind ! There 
never was such a business ; about sixty people who were on the 
stage being extinguished in the most remarkable manner. Not 
a soul was hurt. In the uproar, some moon-calf rescued a por- 
ter-pot, six feet high (out of which the clown had been drink- 
ing when the accident happened), and stood it on the cushion of 
the lowest proscenium box, P. S., beside a lady and gentleman, 
who were dreadfully ashamed of it. The moment the house 
knew that nobody was injured, they directed their whole atten- 
tion to this gigantic porter-pot in its genteel position (the lady 
and gentleman trying to hide behind it), and roared with laugh- 
ter. When a modest footman came from behind the curtain to 
clear it, and took it up in his arms like a Brobdingnagian baby. 


we all laughed more than ever we had laughed in our lives, I 
don't know why. 

We have had a Are here, but our people put it out before- the 
pariah engine arrived, like a drivelliug perambulator, with the 
liead/t; in. if, like aa imbecile baby. Popular opinion, disap- 
pointed in the fire having been put out, snowballed the beadle. 
God bless it ! 

Over the way at the Lyceum, there is a very fair Christmas 
piece, with one or two uncommonly well-donfl nigger songs — 
one remarka>)ly gay aud mad, doue in the finale to a scene. 
Also a very nice transformation, though I don't know what it 

The poor actors waylay me in Bow Street, to represent their 
necessities ; and I often see one cut down a court when ho 
beholds me coming, cut round Drury Lane to face me, and come 
up towards me near this door in the freshest and most accidental 
way, as if I was the last person he expected to see on the sur- 
face of this globe. The other day, there thus appeared before 
e (simultaneously with a scent of rum in the air) one aged 
d greasy man, with a pair of pumps under his arm. He isaid 


UrncE or "Ai.i. tub Year Ruksii," 
Cridu)-, lebnmry 1, IBOl. 

Mr DEAR Ckkjat, — You have reail in the papers of our 
htavj Kngliah frost. At Ond'e Hill it was so intensely cold, 
tbit iu our warm dining-room on Chriatinaa Day we could hardly 
tit at tbe table. In my study on that morning, long after a 
gnat fire of cool and wood hod been lighted, tlie tbiTmometer 
*ru I dou't know where below freezing. Tlie bath fruse, and 
ill the pipes froze, and remained iu a stony utste for five or six 
TTwrks- The water in the bedroom jugs froze, and blew up the 
crael:ery. The snow on the top of the bouse froze, and was 
imperfectly removed with axes. My beard froze as I walked 
■bout, and I could n't detach my cravat and coat from it until 
I WM thawed ot the lire. My boys and half the officers sta- 
^oned at Chntbum akatod away without a check to Gravesend 
— fiva miles otf — and repeated the performance for three or 
tout weeks. At last the thaw came, and then everything split, 
blew up, dripped, poured, perspired, and got spoilt. Since then 
tt have hod a small visitation of tlie plague of servants ; the 
K»k (in ■ riding-habit) and the groom (in a dress-coal and jew- 
tii) baring mounted Mary'a horae and mine, in our absence, and 
•mured Uie neighbouring country at a rattling pace. And when 
I tent home last Saturday, I innocently wondered Iiow the 
knraei came to bo out of condition, and gravely consulted the 
nid groom on the subject, who gave it as his opinion '' which 
Hioy wanted reg'lar work." We are now coming to town until 
nidgummer. Having sold my own house, to he more free and 
pendent, I have taken a very pretty furnished house, Ko. 3, 
' Terrace, Begent's Park. This, of course, on my 
'» Account. For I have very good and cheerful bachelor 
^]irTc, with an old servant in charge, who is the cleverest 
. jf hw kind in the world, and can do anything, from excel- 
iinl urpeiitry to excellent cookery, and has been with me threu- 
•od-i^enly years. 

Tint American business is the greatest English sensation at 
ffwjjl. I venture to predict that the struggle of violftnt* V^ 
!■> Tcry short one, and will ba soon succeeded by Boms 
t batweea tbe Northern and Soutliern Sta.Us, 
e mW-ownars are getting very uneasy 


The Italian state of things is not regarded as lookiiig very 
cheerful. What from one's natural Bjnipathies with a people 
so oppressed as the Italians, and one's natural antagonism to a 
pope and a Bourbon (both of which superstitions I do suppose 
the world to have had more than enough of), I agree with you 
concerning Victor Emmanuel, and greatly fear that the Southern 
Italians are much degraded. Still, an united Italy would be of 
vast importance to the peace of the world, and would be a rock 
in Louis Napoleon's way, as he very well knows. Therefore 
the idea must bo championed, however much against hope. 

My eldest boy, just homo from China, was descried by Towns- 
bend's Henri the moment be landed at Marseilles, and was by 
bim borne in triumph to Townshend's rooms. The weather 
was snowy, slushy, beastly ; and Marseilles was, as it usually is 
to my thinking, well-nigh intolerable. My boy could not stay 
with Townshend, as he was coming on by express train ; but lie 
says : " I sat with him and saw him dine. He had a leg of 
iamb and a tremendous cold." That is the whole description 
I have been able to extract from hira. 

This journal is doing gloriously, and " Great Expectations " 


CCCCXIV. E, M. WARH, e. a. 

S, Harovku Tkrkace, Rcgbmt's Pare, 
SatDnln; Nighl, MiiivliS, IBiII. 

t DKAE Ward, — I cannot tell you how grntiKed I have 
t by your letter, and what a splendid recompeuse it is for 
Bay pleasure I am giving you. Such generous and earnest 
■ynpathy from such a brother artist gives me true delight. I 
im proud of it, believe me, and moved by it to do all the 
better. Ever faithfully yours. 



S, Hakoveb Tkkhace, Re<-.est 

ft »EAR BuLWEE Lyttos, — My story will finish in the 
Gnt week in August. Yours ought to begin in the last week of 
Jul]', or tho last wuek hut one. Wilkie Collins will bo at work 
to follow you. The publication baa mode a very great success 
fill) " Great Expectations," and could not present a Gum time 
lor jou. 

The question of length may be easily adjusted. 

Uf tlie misgiving you entertain I cannot of course judge until 
Jou ^ve nie leave to rush to the perusal. I swear that I never 
tliouglit I had half so much self-Jenial as I liave shown in this 
an ! I think I ehnll como out at Kxeter Hull us a choice 
vmd OB the strength of it. In the mean while I have quick- 
tan] the printer and told him to get on fast. 

You cannot think how happy you make roo by what you 
*tiUi of "Great Expectations." There is nothing like the 
pid« of making such an effect on such a writer as you. 

Ever faithfully. 

S, Hamovbb Terrace, Sundaj-, 12lh May, 1881. 
Mt Dfar Bulwer Lyttos, — I received youi reviaeii^^WiVs 
snlj jei.t.Tday, and J oat down to read them last i\\g\vt. Xui 
^^^It^MOythitig further I tnay tell you that 1 coui.D set 
"i bat woB obliged to go on with them in. Ta-j 'VKi- 


room until I got into a very ghostly state indeed. Tliia morn- 
ing I have taken them again and have gone through them with 
the utmost attention. 

Of the beauty and power of the writing I say not a word, 
or of its originality and Iwldness, or of its quite extraordinary 
constructive skill, I confine myself solely to your misgiviog, 
and to the question whether there is any sufficient foundation 

On the last head I say, without the faintest hesitation, mott 
decidedly there is NOT sufficient foundation for it. I do not 
share it in the least. I believe that the readers who have here 
given their minds (or perhaps had any to give) to those strange 
psychological mysteries in ourselves, of which we are all more or 
less conscious, will accept your wonders as curious weapons in 
the armoury of fiction, and will submit themselves to the Art 
with which said weapons are used. Even to that class of intel- 
ligence the marvellous addresses itself from a very strong 
position ; and that class of intelligence is not accustomed lo 
find the marvellous in such very powerful hands as yours. On 
) imaginative readers the tale will fall (or I am greatly 



■'The Sue! Caaket." 

"The Lost Mftnuaoript." 

" Derval Ourt." 

"Perpetual Youth." 

" Maggie." 

" Vr, Fenwiek." 

" Life and Death." 

Th" four last I think the bert. There is an objection to 
" Dr. Fenwick " because there has been " Dr. Antonio," anil 
llere is a book of Dumss's which repeats the objection. I 
liou't think " Fenwick " stsrliiiig enough. It apjiears to me 
that a more startling title would take the (John) Bull by the 
lomg, and would be a serviceable concession to your miiigiviiig, 
U nggestiug a story off the stones of the gas-lighted Brentford 

The title is the first thing to be settled, and cannot be settled 
too won. 

Fnr the purposes of the weekly publication the divisions of 
the rtoty will often have to be greatly changed, though after- 
*inls, in the complete book, you can, of conrse, divide it into 
ehtplers, free from that reference. For example : I would end 
Uw fiwt chapter on the third slip at " and through the ghostly 
<trnta, under the ghostly rooon, went back to my solitary 
room." The rest of what is now your first chapter might be 
nwdc Chapter II., and would end the first weekly part. 

I think I have become, by dint of necessity and practice, 
fiUier cunning in this regard ; and perhaps you would not mind 
mj looking closely to such points from week to week. It so 
Ijtpj^iis that if you had written the opening of this story ex- 
PKuly for the occasion ita striking incidents could not possibly 
Ii»»» followed one another better. One other merely median- 
iai change I suggest now. I would not have an initial letter 
Iw the town, but would state in the beginning that I gave the 
^n a flctitiouB name, I suppose a blank or a dash rather 
^di A gnoil many people off — because it always has that effect 

Be Miru that I am perfectly frank and open in all I have 
^i \a this note, and that I have not a grain of teaeivtAvm wv 
nj mind. I tlunk the story a very fine one, one that m» o'Oivot 
"T^eoald write, and that there is no Blrengl\i m -yowt to»- 
> tbe tiro reasons : firstly, that the work U vtolw ' 


a work of Fancy and Fiction, in wbicli the reader is not re- 
quired against his will to take everything for Fact ; eecondly, 
that it is written by the man who can write it. The Magi- 
cian's servant does not know what to do with the ghost, and 
has, consequently, no husinesa with him. The Magician do«s 
know what to do with him, and has all the business with him 
that he can transact. 

I am quite at ease on the points that you have expressed 
yourself as not at ease upon. Quite. I cannot too often say 
that if they were carried on weak shoulders tbey would break 
the bcaror down. But ia your mastering of them lies tha 
mastery over the reader. 

This will reach you at Knebwortb, I hope, to-morrow after- 
noon. Pray give your doubts to the winds of that high spot, 
and believe that if I had tliem I would swarm up the flag-staff 
quite as nimbly as Margrave and nail the Feuwick colours U) 
tile top. 

Ever affectionately youre. 



Lorn. Wakukm H^,^E^ Dover, Sunday, 26th JUy, 1881. 
My dkak Lauy Ollipfe, — I Lave run away to this sea- 
beach to get rid of my neurulgic face. 

Touchiug the kind invitationa received from you llus morning, 
I feel that the only couree I can take — without being a Hum- 
bug — is to decline them. After the middle of June I shall 
be mostly at Gad's Hill — I know that I cannot do better than 
lw«|j oQt of the way of hot rooms and late dinners, and what 
wnuld you think of me, or coll me, if 1 were to accept and not 
mm I 

No, DO, no. Be etill, my soul. Be virtuous, eminent author. 
Do not accept, my Dickens. She is to come to Gad's Hill with 

Ise. Await her there, my child. (Thus the voice of 
My dear Lady (tilitre, 
Bver aUectionately yours. 


Au. TUB YtLXS RofHD " OmcE, Tucsdaf, June 11, 18A1. 

lEAKEsT Macready, — Thete is little doubt, I think, 

'By roiiding at Cheltenham somewhere about Kovember. I 
•ubmil myseU so entirely to Arthur Smith's arrangements for 
Bb, thnt I express my sentimenta on this head with modesty. 
Bui I think there is scarcely a doubt of my seeing you then. 

I have just finished my book of " Great ICKpectations," and 
Ui the worse for wear. Neuralgic pains in the face have 
tiDubled me a good deal, and the work has been pretty close. 
But I hope tbnt the book is a good book, and I have no doubt 
ot yny soon throwing off the little damage it boa done me. 

What with Blondin at the Crystal Palace and Leotard at 
Uicctter 8c|uare, we seem to be going back to barbaric cxcita- 
iBMlti. I have not seen, and don't intend to see, the Hero 
^ yiagaro ftw the posters call him), but 1 have been beguiled 
■Un seeing Leotard, and it is at once the most fearful and most 
ptoful thing 1 have ever seen done. 
Clara Wliite (firomt pretty) has been ataying wil\i v>a. 

fon afraid that ''The Times," by playing last a.u4\«»» 
— question, Jias very 8erious\y comviiOTOS 



this country. The Aniericans northward ate perfectly furiotw 
on the subject ; and Motley the hietoriitn (a very senGible man, 
strongly English in hie Byrapatbics) assured me the other day 
that he thought the harm done very eerioue indeed, and the 
dangerous nature of the daily widening hicach Bcarcely cal- 

Kindest and best love to all. Wilkie Collins has just come 
in, and sends best regard. 

Ever most affectionately, my dearest Macready. 


Gad's Hill, Mondsv, Jal; 1, 18B1. 
My DEAB FoitSTEK, — You will be surprised to hear that 
I have changed the end of " Great Expectations " from and 
after Pip's return to Joe's, and finding his little likeness there. 
Eulwer (who has been, as I think I told you, extraordinarily 
taken by the book) so strongly urged it upon mo, after reading 
the proofs, and supported his views with such good reasons, that 
lived to make the change. You shall have it when you 


conviction (his son waa here yeslerday) that the North will put 
down the South, aad that speeJily. In his management of his 
large btisiness, he is proceeding steadily on tliot conviction. He 
Bays that the South has no inoney and no credit, and that it u 
impossilile for it to make a euccesgful stand. He may be all 
wrong, but he is certainly a very shrewd man, and he has never 
been, as to the United States, an enthusiast of any class. 

Poor Lord Campbell's seems to me as easy and good a death 
u one could deaire. There must be a sweep of these men very 
soon, and one feels as if it must fall out like the breaking of an 
arch — one stone goes from a prominent place, and then tlie rest 
begin to drop. So one looks towards Brougham, and Lynd- 
bnTst, and Pollock. 

1 will add no more to this, or I know I shall not send it ; for 
I am in the first desperate laziness of having done my book, and 
think of offering myself to the village school aa a live example 
of that vice for the edification of youth. 

Ever, my dear Forster, affectionately, 


Gad's Hill pLAri, Hioiiah nr HornKsrER, K-Bxt, 
MoQd»y, July 9, 1861. 

My dear Mrs. Watson, — I have owed you a letter for so 
king a lime that I feat yon may sometimes have misconstrued 
tty silence. But I hope that the sight of the handwriting of 
jow rild friend will undeceive you, if yon have, and will put 
that right. 

During the progress of my lost story, I have been working so 
Imd that very, very little correspondence — except enforced 
nrnspomlcnce on bueinesa — has passed this pen. And now 
tint I am free again, I devote a few of my first leisure moments 
to this Dot«. 

Yoa Memed in your last to think that I had forgotten you in 
TMpoct of the Christmas number. Not so at all. I discussed 
with them here where you were, how you were to be addressed, 
ind the like ; finally left the number in a blank envelope, and 
m not add the address to it until it would have beeti tfoswiA 
to«end you such ftale bread. This was my fault, WtftAa-wa* 
~" Aod I shotiht be so pained at heart it you su^VO^*^ ""^"^ 
■■ cf /aiimg in my truth and cordiality, ot in ttie wo.tto 


remembrance of tbe time wo have passed together, that perhaps 
I make more of it than you meant to do. 

My Milor-boy is at home — I was going to write, for the 
holidays, but I suppose I must substitute " on leave." Under 
the new regulations, he muiit not pass out of the Britacma 
before December. The younger boya are all at school, aod 
coming home this week for the holidays. Mary keeps house, 
of course, and Katie and her husband surprised us yeaterdaj, 
and are here now. Charley is holiday -making at Guernsey and 
Jerspy. He has been for some time seeking a partnership in 
business, and has not yet found one. The matter is in the 
bands of Mr. Bates, the managing partner in Barings' house, end 
seems as slow a matter to adjust itself as ever I looked on at. 
Georgina is, as usual, the general friend and coufiUonte and fac- 
totum of the whole party. 

Your present correspondent read at St. James's Hall in the 
beginning of the season, to perfectly astounding audiences ; but 
fiuding that fatigue and excitement very difficult to n 
conjunction with a story, deemed it prudent to leave off « 
' 1 high tide and mid-career, the rather by r 

we arc in Keut, you are greener than you have been for some 
years. I hope you may liave seen a large-headed photograph 
with little lega, representing the undersigned, pen in hand, tap- 
ping hifi forehead to knock an idea out. It has just sprung up 
so abundantly in all the shops, that I am ashamed to go about 
town looking in at the picture-windows, which is my delight. It 
seems to me extraonHnarily ludicrous, and much more liko than 
the grave portrait done in earnest. It made me laugh when I 
Ijrst came upon it, until I shook again, in open sunlighled Pic- 

Pwy be a good Christian to me, and don't be retributive in 
meaBuring out the time that shall pass before you write to me. 
And believe me ever, 

Your affectionate and faithful 


Gad'b Hii.1., Mondaj, 8tb Jut?, ISSl. 
Mt i>EAR Mrs, GiBsoy, — I want very affectionately and 
(■mostly to congratulate you on your eldest daughter's approach- 
ing marriage. Up to the moment when Mary told me of it, I 
bail foolishly thought of her always as the pretty little girl with 
ihc frank loving face whom I saw last on the sands at Broad- 
•toin. 1 rabbed my eyeR and woke at the words " going to bo 
nuoried," nod found I had been walking in my sleep some 

t want to thank you also for thinking of me on the occasion, 
hul I feel that 1 am better away from it. I should really have 
a misgiving that I was a sort of shadow on a young marriage, 
and you will understand me when I say so, and no more. 

But I shftll bo with you in the best part of myself, in the 
warmlli of sympathy and friendship — and I send my love to 
the lieu girl, and devoutly hope and believe that she will be 
hnppy. The face that T remember with perfect accuracy, and 
could draw here, if I could draw at all, was made to be happy 
Mill to make a husband so, 

I wonder whether you ever travel by railroad in these times ! 
I wi»h Mary could tempt you to come by any road to ftiia\W\«s 
pl act*. 

' ■' •- -•---■ •* to M ilner Gibeon, believe nve evoT, 

rjWectionately and iaWituYV^ ■50' 



Ofticb op "All ths Ymam Roxnn>," 
Wednesday, Angut », IML 

My dear Wilkie, — I have been going to write to you 
ever since I received your letter from Whitby, and now I hear 
from Charley that you are coming home, and must be addreflsed 
> in the Hue Harley. Let me know whether you will dine hen 
this day week at the usual five. I am at present so addle- 
headed (having hard Wednesday work in Wills's absence) that 
I can't write much. 

I have got the "Copperfield" reading ready for deliveiy, 
and am now going to blaze away at " Xickleby," which I donH 
like half as well. Every morning I ''go in " at these marks 
for two or three hours, and then collapse and do nothing what- 
ever (counting as nothing much cricket and rounders). 

In my time that curious railroad by the Whitby Moor was so 
much the more curious, that you were balanced against a coun- 
ter-weight of water, and that you did it like Blondin. But in 
these remote days the one inn of Whitby was up a back yard, 
and oyster-shell grottoes were the only view from the best pri- 
vate room. Likewise, sir, I have posted to Whitby. " Pity 
the sorrows of a poor old man." 

The sun is glaring in at these windows with an amount of 
ferocity insupportable by one of the landed interest, who lies 
upon his back with an imbecile hold on grass, from lunch to 
dinner. Feebleness of mind and head are the result. 

Ever affectionately. 

P. S. — The boys have multiplied themselves by fifty daily, 
and have seemed to appear in hosts (especially in the hottest 
days) round all the comers at Gad's Hill. I call them the 
prowlers, and each has a distinguishing name attached, derived 
from his style of prowling. 



Gad'b Hill Place, Hichah ar RocnESTKn, Kbtct, 
Tuesday, Si-plcmber 3, l!t6l. 

■ DEAB Arthur, — I cannot tell you how sorry I am to 
neeive your bad account of your health, or how anxious I shall 
be to receive a better one as eoon as you can possibly give it, 

If you go away, duii't you think in tbe main you would be 
better hero than anywhere? You know how well you would 
be nurwd, what care we should take of you, and liow perfectly 
quiet and at home you would be, until you become strong 
enough to take to the Medway. Moreover, I think you would 
be less anxious about the tour here than away from such associ- 
ftUon. I would come to Worthmg to fetch you, I need n't say, 
and would take the most careful charge of you. I will writa 
no more about tliis, because I wish to avoid giving you more to 
nod than am be helped ; but 1 do sincerely believe it would 
be at ODce your wisest and least anxious course. As to a long 
journey into Wales, or any long journey, it would never do. 
^ice is not to be thought of. Its duet, and ite sharp winds 
(I know it well), towards October are very bad indeed, 

I send you the inclosed letters, firstly, because 1 have no 
cireulai to answer them with, and, secondly, because I fear I 
m^ht confuse your arrangements by interfering ivith the cor- 
rM[Kindenc«. I shnll hope to have a word from you very soon. 
I ua at work for the tour every day, except my town Wodnes- 
Hmjo. Ever faithfully. 


P. S. — Kindest regards from all, 


Gaii's Hlli. Plack, Ilmr 

li fieplen 

My dear PtT.WER Lttton, — I am delighted with your 

tetter of yesterday — delighted with the addition to the length 

of tbe story — delighted with your account of it, and joot uAct- 

»t in it — and even more than delight«d by ■w\iat ^ou sa^s lA 

I oar wwiifly ia company. 

S,^&eeatient voice haa reached me tca'^dlv 


prough the dullest time of the year we held (inr circulation 
t gallantly. And it could not have taken a better hold. I 
T Forster on Friday (newly returned from thousands of pro- 
ial lunatics), and he really was more impressed than I can 
^ou hy what lie had Been of it. Just what you say you 
( it will turn out to be, /le was saying, almost in the same 

Il am burning to get at the whole story, — and you inflame 

;he maddest manner by your references, to what I don't 

The exquiaite art with which you have changed it, and 

i'ercomo the dilticulties of the mode of publication, has 

■rly staggered me. I know pretty well what the difficulties 

J and there is no otber man who could have done it, I ween. 

Ever affectionately. 

-In reply to your kind letter I n 





Oelc.lwr fl, IBfll. 

tT DKAB Edmusd, — Coming back here to-day, I find your 

I was so very much diEtressed lofit night in thinking of it all, 
and 1 find it bo very difficult to preserve my composure when I 
dwell in my mind on the many times fast approaching when 
1 bIi«11 sorely misa the familiar fnce,^ that I am hardly steady 
enough yet to refer to the readings like a man. But your kind 
reference to them makes me desirous to tsl! you that I took 
Hefidland (formerly of St. Martin's Hall, who has always been 
with 113 in LondoD) to conduct the business, when I knew that 
our poor dear fellow could never do it, even it he had recovered 
•iTvnglh Ui go ; and that I consulted with himself aliout it when 
I saw him for the last time on earth, and that it seemed to liim, and he said : " We could n't do Ixi-tter." 

Write to me before you come ; and reniemlwr that I go to 
town Wednesday mornings. Ever faithfully. 


Mr DEAREST Mamik, — I received your affectionate little 
fetter here this morning, and was very glad to get it. Poor 
dear Arlhur is a sad loss to me, and indeed I wns very fond of 
biau But the readings must be fought out, like all the rest of 
lib. Ever your affectionate. 


Oad-» HiLi. Flack, Hioham rt RncnuETFR. Ksmr, 

8und«j-. Oclobtr l^J, 18BI. 

r pRARKST Macreadt, — This is a short note. But the 
I know for certain what is designed for me B.t C\\eVtevi- 
s to you in order that you may know \\, Itoto. \n« 
» iiom May one else. 

nitlh, his bueincMmanagnt and U'veni. 


I am to read there on the evening of Friday, tlio 3d of Jan- 
uary, and on the raorning of Saturday, the 4th ; as I have 
nothing to do on Thureday, the 2d, but come from Leamington, 
I shall come to you, pleaKe God, for a quiet dinner that day. 

The death of Arthur Smith has caused me great diBtrcss aod 
anxiety. I had a great regard for him, and be made the read- 
ing part of my life as light and pleasant as it mulil be m.-ide. 
I had hoped to bring him to see you, and had pictured to myself 
how amused and interested you would have been with hia won- 
derful tact and consummate mastery of arrangement. But it 'a 
all over. 

I Ijegin at Norwich on the 28th, and am going north in the 
middle of November. I am going to do " Copperfield," and 
shall be curious to teat its effect on the Edinburgh people. It 
has been quite a job so to piece portions of the long book 
t<^ther aa to make something continuous out of it ; but I hope 
I have got something varied and dramatic I am also (not to 
slight r/oiir book) going to do "Nickleby at Mr. Squeers'a." 
It is clear that both must ho trotted out at Cheltenham. 

With kindest love and regard to all your house. 


lie went down at seven with me to tlie dismal den vhere I 
dressed, nnd sst by the Hro whilo 1 dressed, anil was childishly 
happy in that great prii-ilege ! During the reading he sat on a 
comer of the platform and roared incessantly. He brouglit ta 
& lady and gentleman to introduce while I was undressing, and 
^^■H^Kway in a perfect and absolute rapture. 


Rov*L HuTEL, Norwich, TucwIit. Oclober 90, 1S61. 

I cannot say tbat we began well lust night. We had not a 
good hall, nnd tbey were a very lumpish audience indeed. This 
did not t«nd to cheer the strangeness I felt in being without 
Arthnr, nnd 1 was not at all royBolf." We have a lat^e let for 
to-night, I think two hundred and fifty stalls, which is very 
Urgt^i "■^'^ I hope that both they and I will go better. I could 
have done perfectly last night, if the audience had been bright ; 
but they were an intent and staring audience. They laughed, 
thoiigli, very well, and the storm made them shake themselves 
n^iiu. But they were not magnetic, and the great big place 
was out of sorts somehow. 

To-Baorrow I will write you another short not*, however 
thort. It is " Nickleby " and the " Trial " to-night ; " Copper- 
ticlil " !^in to-morrow. A wot day here, with glimpses of 
blue. I shall not forgot Katey'a health at dinner. A pleasant 

Ever, my dearest Goorgy, your most affectionat*. 


Trii; Gbkat Wiiitk Hobsk, Ipswicn, 
FrM«j-, Novrmber 1, ISOI. 
^nnot quite remember in the wbirl of travelling and read- 
vhetbor or no I wmto you a line from Bury St. Edmunds. 
Iftit I think (and hope) I did. We had a fine room there, and 
"C'opperiicld" made a great impression. At midday we go on 
lo Colehi-ster, where I shall expect the yoiing Moi^ans. I sent 
» lelepram on yesterday, after receiving your note, \o w«\iw 
a for them. The answer returned by telegta^\\ ■waft'. "Tiio 
Bt^ls/t but on tbe fourth row." If Ihey pieter to sVV n^ 
I read in the theatre, there being no o\.Ve\ \a.\?,« 


public room), they sliall. Meantime I have told John, who 
went forwnni this morning with the other men, to let the peo- 
pie at the inn know that if three travellers answering that 
description appear before my dinner-time, they are to dine 
with nie. 

I'loni's admission that he likes the school very much indeed 
is the great social triumph of modem times. 

I am looking forward to Sunday's rest at Gad's, and ehall be 
down by the ten o'clock train from town. I miss poor Arthur 
dreadfully. It is scarcely posaible to imagine how muck It 
is not only that his loss to me socially is quite irreparable, but 
that the »;n6e I used to have of compactness and comfort about 
me while I waa reading is quite gone. And when I come out 
for the ten minutes, whert I used to find hira always ready for 
me with something cheerful to say, it is forlorn. I cannot but 
fancy, too, that the audience must miss the old specialty of a 
per vailing gentleman. 

Nobody I know has turned up yet except Elwin, I hare 
had many invitations to all sorts of houses in all sorts of places, 
,nd have, of course accepted them every o 



Winily Nigbt, Novuinlwr 4, ISfil. 

My dearest Mamie, — A word of report before I go to 

betL An excellent houi^e to-niglit, and an audieuce positively 

perfect. The greatest part of it stalls, and an inteiligejit and 

delightful response in them, like the touch of a beautiful inatrU' 

I'* CopperGeld " vroimd up iu a real burst uf fct-ling and 
. ..._ 


Lom> Wabiikm Hotel, Doveb, 
WfdiicidB.v, November 6, 186t. 

I am exceedingly eoriy to find, from the letter you 
have addressed to me, that you had just cause of complaiot in 
being excluded from my reading here last night. It will now 
and then unfortunately happen when the place of reading is 
sm&ll (ae in this cose), that some confusion ond iticonveni<?Tice 
uiae from the local agents over-estimating, in perfect good faith 
and sinccrily, the capacity of the room. Such a mistake, I am 
Mmuvd, vim made last night ; and thus all the available space 
WIS irllinl bnfore the people iu ctiarge were at all prepared for 
that circumstance. 

You may readily suppose that I can have no personal know- 
ledge of the proceedings of the people in my eniptoyroenl at 
nich a time. }lut I wish to assure you very earnestly, that 
tlxy are all old aervants, well acquainted with ray principles 
'^wialicH, anil that they are under the strongest injunction to 
any approach to mercenary dealing ; and to behave to all 
equally with as much consideration and politeness aa 
iw I shmild myself display. The recent death of a 
igT«tled frivnd of mine, who managed this buRinesi for 
ou whom those men were accustomed to rely in any 
liificulty, caused them (I have no doubt) to feel rather at 
our cose. Do me the favour to understand tlial under 
circnmstAncoa you would, aa a matter of cAuten, Wi% 
provided with noy places whatever thai couW \ie ^o^Mv^, 
to what you had oriypaML'a 


Tliis is scanty satisfnction to you, but it is so atrictlf the 
truth, that yours is tho tiret complaint of the kind I have ever 

I hojiy to read in Dover again, but it is quite impossible that 
I can muke any present arrangement for that purpose. When- 
ever I may return here, you may be sure 1 shall not lail to 
remember that I owe you a recomjwose for a diiiappolntment. 
In the mean while I very sincerely regret it. 

Faithfully yours. 


Bedford Hotel, Bbiotitoji, Thnnidnv, Kovembtt 7, !861. 

My deak Georoy, — The Duchess of Cambridge comes tiv 

night to " Copperfield." The Imd weather has not in the least 

touched us, and beyond all doubt a great deal of money has 

been left untaken at each place. 

The storm was most magnificent at Dover. All the grBal 
side of The Lord Warden next the sea had to be emptied, the 
break of the sea wits so prodigious, and the noise was so utterly 


trouble is id every way great. Tliere is rather an alanning 
breaidown at Newcastle, in respect of all the bills having 
been, in aome inscrutable way, lost on the road. I have 
rcEolved to send Berry there, with full powers to do all manner 

1 of things, cavly next week. 

The amended route-list is not printed yet, because I am trying 
to get oif Manchester and Liverpool ; both of which I strongly 
doubt, iu the present state of American affairs. Therefore I 
on't send it for Marguerite ; but I can, aud do, send her my 
love and God-spcod. This is addressed to the office because I 
Buppose you will be there to-morrow. 

L Ever affectionately. 

Hy deab Mart. — I am perfectly enraptured with the 
t)ni]t. It is one of tbe moat tasteful, lively, elegant things I 
hsTe ever soon ; and I Deed not tell you that while it is 
Tiloable to me for its own ornometital sake, it is precious to me 
H a rainbow-hint of youi friendship aud aSectionate remem- 

Please (fod yon shall see it next summer occupying its 
»llotted place of state in my brand-new bedroom here. Yon 
tlwll behold it then, with all cheerful surroundings, the envy of 

My readings have been doing absolute wonders. Your 
fticliens and Princess came to hear first " Nickleby " and the 
" Pickwick Trial," then " Coppcrfield," at Brighton. I think 
Ui#y were pleased with me. and I am sure I was witli them ; for 
tbty UK the very best audience one could possibly desire. I 
■kll always have a pleasant remembrance of them. 

On Wednesday I am away again for the longest port of my 

Mary dear, I rauet say that I like my Oarton, and I 
faint idea sometimes that if I Iiad acted him, I could 
something with hia life and death. 
Believe me, ever yoai affectionate and ia\l\\Su\ 





Wednesday Night, 90th November, 186L 

Mt DEAR BiTLWER Lttton, — I have lead here this eyenu^j 
very attentively, Nos. 19 and 20. I have not the least dool 
of the introduced matter; whether considered for its policy, if* j 
beauty, or its wise bearing on the story, it is decidedly a 
improvement. It is at once very suggestive and very new t» 
have these various points of view presented to the leodei'l 

That the audience is good enough for anything that Lb well 
presented to it, I am quite sure. 

When you can avoid notes, however, and get their substanoi 
into the text, it is highly desirable in the case of so large aa 
audience, simply because, as so large an audience necessarily 
reads the story in small portions, it is of the greater importance 
that they should retain as much of its argument as possiUe. 
Whereas the difficulty of getting numbers of people to read 
notes (which they invariably regard as interruptions of the text^ 
not as strengtheners or elucidators of it) is wonderful 

Ever affectionately. 


Quken's Head, Newcastle, Friday, November 22, 1861. 

I received your letter this morning, and grieve to report that 
the unlucky Headland has broken down most awfully I 

First, as perhaps you remember, this b the place where the 
bills were " lost " for a week or two. The consequence has 
been that the agent could not announce all through the " Jenny 
Lind " time (the most important for announcing), and could but 
stand still and stare when people came to ask what I was going 
to read. Last night I read " Cop|>erfield " to the most enthusi- . 
astic and appreciative audience imaginable, but in numbers about 
half what they might have been. To-night we shall have a 
famous house ; but we might have had it last night too. To- 
morrow (knowing by this time what can, of a certainty, be done 
with " Copperfield ") I had, of course, given out " Copperfield " 
to be read again. Conceive my amazement and dismay when I 


find the printer to have announced " Little Dombey "I! I 
Ihia, I declare, I had no more intention of readicg than I had 
ai reading an account of the solar system. And this, after a 
aiBiution la«t night, of a really BxtraonlinBry nature in ite 
intensity and delight ! 

Says thp unlucky Headland to this first head of tnieery: 
"Johnson's niiataka" (Johnson being the printer). 

Second, I rend at Edinbui^h for the first time — ultserve the 
day — next Wednesday, ilonny Lind's concert at Edinburgh 
is to-night. This morning comes a frantic letter from the Edin- 
bnrgh agent. "I have no hills, no tickets j I lose all the 
■umouncement I wotild have made to hundreds upon hundreds 
of people to-night, all of the most desirable class to he well 
infomted beforehand. 1 can't announce what Sir. Dickens is 
going to read ; I can anewpr no question ; I have, upon my 
neponeibility, ptit a dreary advertieeraent into the papers an- 
nouncing that he la going to read so many times, and tliat par- 
t»nlars will shortly be ready; and I stand bound hand and 
foot." " Johnson's mistake," says the unlucky Headland. 

Of course, I know that the man who never made a mistake 
in poor Arthur's time is not likely to be always making mia- 
takes now. But I have written by this post to Wills, to go to 
him and investigate. I have also detached Berry from here, 
md have sent him on by train at a few minutes' notice to Edin- 
tnngh, and then to Glasgow (where I have no doubt everything 
i» wrong too). Glasgow we may save ; Edinburgh I hold to be 
ir»trievably damaged. If it can be picked up at all, it can only 
bs at the loss of the two first nights, and by the expenditure of 
w> end of Bpirit« and force. And this is the harder lieeause it 
i> inipoasible not to see that the last readings polished and pre- 
pwd the audiences in general, and that I have not to work 
ll»m up in any place where I have been before, but that they 
•tort with a London intelligence, and witli a respect and prepa- 
niion for what they are going to hear. 

I hope by the time you and Mamie come to me, we shall 
wve got into some good method. T must take the thing more 
ct my own hands and look after it from hour to hour. If 
ih a thing as this Edinburgh business covdd \ni\e \\(i^\iwvft4. 
r Arthur, / really believe he would ha\e inWen \tv\io « 

one can ever know wWt W 

1 and without him. 'H.ea&\a 


la and so good -tempered that I cannot be very etormy with 
him ; but it is the simple fact that lie has no notion of the 
lequi rem eats of such work as thia. Without him, and with a 
larger salary to Berry (though there are objections to the latter 
&sjirst man), I could have done a hundred times hctter. 

As Forster will have a strong interest in knowing all about 
the [jroceeditigs, perhaps you will send him this letter to read. 
There ia no very tremendous harm, indeed, done as yet, At 
Kilinhiirgh I snow what I can do with " Copperfiold." I 
think it is not too much to say that for every one who does 
come to hear it on the first night, I can get hick fifty on the 
oeconti. And whatever can be worked up there will tell on 
Glasgow. Berry I shall continue to send on ahead, and I 
shall take nothing on trust and more as being done. 

On Sunday morning at six, I have to Btait for Berwick. 
From Berwick, in the course of that day, I will write again ; to 
Mamie next time. 

With best lovs to her and Mib. B. 



"Bot there stood the master/' he did me the honour to say 
afterwards, in addressing the rest, '' as cool as ever I see him 
a lounging at a railway station." 

A tdegram from Berry at Edinburgh yesterday evening, to 
817 that he had got the bills, and that they would all be up 
and dispersed yesterday evening under his own eyes. So no 
time was lost in setting things as right as they can be set. He 
has now gone on to Glasgow. 

P. S. — Daty to Mrs. Bouncer. 

Berwick-on-Tweed, Monday, November 25, 1861. 

I write (in a gale of wind, with a high sea running), to let 
70D know that we go on to Edinburgh at half-past eight to- 
morrow morning. 

A most ridiculous room was designed for me in this odd out-of- 
tlie-way place. An immense Com Exchange made of glass and 
iron, round, dome-topped, lofty, utterly absurd for any such 
purpose, and full of thundering echoes, with a little lofty 
erowVnest of a stone gallery breast-high, deep in the wall, into 
which it was designed to put me ! I instantly struck, of 
eonrse, and said I would either read in a room attached to this 
hoose (a very snug one, capable of holding five hundred people), 
or not at all. Terrified local agents glowered, but fell prostrate. 
Berry has this moment come back from Edinburgh and Glas- 
gow with hopeful accounts. He seems to have done the busi- 
ness extremely well, and he says that it was quite curious and 
cheering to see how the Glasgow people assembled round the 
bills the instant they were posted, and evidently with a great 
interest in them. 

We left Newcastle yesterday morning in the dark, when it 
was intensely cold and froze very hard. So it did here. But 
towards night the wind went round to the S. W., and all night 
it has been blowing very hard indeed. So it is now. 

Tell Mamie that I have the same sitting-room as we had 
when we came here with poor Arthur, and that my bedroom is 
the room out of it which she and Katie had. Surely it is the 
oddest town to read in ! But it is taken on poor Arthur's prin- 
ciple that a place in the way pays the expenses of a through 


journey ; and the people would seem to bo coming up to the 
Bcralch gaUantly. It was a dull Sunday, though ; oh, it ii-/u t 
dull Suuday, without a book I For I had forgotten to buy one 
at Newcastle, until it was too late. So after dark I made a jug 
of whiskey punch, and drowned the unlucky Headlaud'H re- 
membrance of his failures. 

I shall hope to bear very soon that the workmen havfl 
" broken through," and that you have been in the stat« apart- 
ments, and that upholstery measurements have come off. 

There has been a horrible accident in Edinburgh. One of 
the sDvon-story old houses in the High Street fell when it WM 
full of people. Berry was at the bill-poster's house, a few doore 
off, wuitiug for hira to come home, when he heard what seemed 
like thunder, and then the air was darkened with dust, '' as if 
an immense quantity of steam had been blown off," and then 
all that dismal quarter aet up shrieks, which he says were no^t 



Idleo bmlding yesterday. They were still at work trying to 
find two men (brothers), a young girl, and an old woman, 
known to be all lying there. On the walls two or three com- 
mon clocks are still hanging ; one of them, judging from the 
time at which it stopped, would seem to have gone for an hour 
or 80 after the fall. Great interest had been taken in a poor 
linnet in a cage, hanging in the wind and rain high up against 
the broken wall. A fireman got it down alive, and great exul- 
tation had been raised over it. One woman, who was dug out 
nnhnrt, staggered into the street, stared all round her, instantly 
an away, and has never been heard of since. It is a most 
extiaordinary sight, and of course makes a great sensation. 


Waterloo Hotel, Edinburgh, Friday, November 29, 1861. 

I think it is my turn to write to you, and I therefore send a 
brief despatch, like a telegram, to let you know that in a gale 
of wind and a fierce rain, last night, we turned away a thousand 
people. There was no getting into the hall, no getting near 
Uie hall, no stirring among the people, no getting out, no pos- 
ofaility of getting rid of them. And yet, in spite of all that, 
and of their being steaming wet, they never flagged for an 
instant, never made a complaint, and took up the trial upon 
their very shoulders, to the last word, in a triumphant roar. 

The talk about " Copperfield " rings through the whole place. 
It is done again to-morrow night. To-morrow morning I read 
" Dombey." To-morrow morning is Grisi's " farewell '* morn- 
ing concert, and last night was her " farewell " evening concert. 
Neither she, nor Jenny Lind, nor anything, nor anybody seems 
to make the least effect on the draw of the readings. 

I lunch with Blackwood to-day. He was at the reading last 
night; a capital audience. Young Blackwood has also called 
here. A very good young fellow, I think. 


Carrick's Royal Hotel, Glasgow, 
Tuesday, December 3, 1861. 

I send you by this post another " Scotsman." From a para- 
graph in it^ a letter, and an advertisement, you may be able to 


form some dim guesa of the scone at Edinburgh last nigbt. 
Such a pouring of hundreds into a place already full to the 
throat, 8ucl) indescribable confusion, such a rending and teoricig 
of dresses, and yet such a scone of good humour on the whole. 
I never saw the faintest approach to it. ^MiUe I addressed the 
crowd in the room, Gordon addressed the crowd in the street. 
Fifty frantic men got up in alt parts of the linll and addressed 
mo all at once. Other frantic men mode sjjeeches to the walk. 
The whole Blackwood family were borne in on the top of a 
wave, and landed with their face« against the front of the plat- 
form. I read with the platform crammed with people. I got 
them to lie down upon it, and it was like some imposeible 
tableau or gijiaiitic picnic; one pretty gir! in full dress lying on 
her side all night, holding on to one of the legs of my table. 
It was the most extraordinary sight. And yet from the mo- 
ment I hcgan to the moment of my leaving off, they never 
missed a point, and they ended with a hurst of cheers. 

The confusion was decidedly owing to the Ictcal agents. But 
I think it may have l>een a little heightened by Headland's way 
of sending them the tickets to sell in the ttrst instance. 

W. H. WILLS 167 

Victoria Hotel, Preston, Fridmj, December 13, 1861. 

My drab Wills, — The news of the Christmas number is 
indeed glorious, and nothing can look brighter or better than 
the prospects of the illustrious publication. 

Both Carlisle and Lancaster have come out admirably, 

tlioagh I doubted both, as you did. But, unlike you, I always 

doabted this place. I do so still. It is a poor place at the best 

(jou remember ?), and the mills are working half time, and 

tnde is very bad. The expenses, however, will be a mere 

nothing. The accounts from Manchester for to-morrow, and 

from Liverpool for the readings generally, are very cheering 


The young lady who sells the papers at the station is just 
ihe same as ever. Has orders for to-night, and is coming 
" with a person." " The person ? " said I. " Never you 
mind,'' said she. 

I was so charmed with Kobert Chambers's ''Traditions of 
Edinburgh " (which I read in Edinburgh), that I was obliged 
to write to him and say so. 

Glasgow finished nobly, and the last night in Edinburgh was 
signally successful and positively splendid. 

Will you give my small Admiral, on his personal application, 
one sovereign ? I have told him to come to you for that recog- 
nition of his meritorious services. 

Ever faithfully. 


Adelphi Hotel, Liverpool, Sunday, December 15, 1861. 

My bear Wills, — I sent you a telegram to-day, and I 
write before the answer has come to hand. 

I have been very doubtful what to do here. We have a 
great let for to-morrow night. The mayor recommends closing 
to-morrow, and going on on Tuesday and Wednesday, so does 
the town clerk, so do the agents. But I have a misgiving that 
they hardly understand what the public general sympathy with 
the Queen will be. Further, I feel personally that the Queen 
has always been very considerate and gracious to me, and I 


would on nn account do anything that might seem unfeeling or 
disrespectful. I shall attach great weight, in this state of inde- 
cision, Ui your telegram. 

A capital audience at Preston. Not a capacious room, but 
full. Great appreciation. 

The st^eiie at Manchester last night was really magnificent. 1 
had had the pisiform carried forward to our "Ftomh Deep" 
point, and my table and screen built in with a proscenium and 
room scenery. AVhen I went in (there was a very fine hall), 
they apji lauded in the most tremendous manner ; and the ex- 
tent to which they were taken aback and taken by slorm by 
" Copperlield '' was really a thing to see. 

The post closes early here on a Sunday, and I shall close 
this als>:i without further reference to " a mefsage from the " 
W. H. \\'. lieing probably on the road. 

Radley is ill, and supposed to be fast declining, poor fellow. 
The liiiiise is crammed, the assizes oti, and troops perpetually 
embarking for Canada, and their officers passing through the 

Kindest regards, ever faithfully. 


trostfolnefls. It will never be so full of wine as it is to-day of 
affectionate regard. 

Ever faithfully yours. 


Chkltkniiam, Friday, January 3, 1862. 

Mr DEAREST Georgy, — Mrs. Macready in voice is very 
like poor Mrs. Macready dead and gone ; not in the least like 
W otherwise. She is perfectly satisfactory, and exceedingly 
winning. Quite perfect in her manner with him and in her 
eaae ¥rith his children, sensible, gay, pleasant, sweet-tempered ; 
Dot in the faintest degree stiif or pedantic ; accessible instantly. 
I have very rarely seen a more agreeable woman. The house 
is (on a smaller scale) any house we have known them in. 
I'^imished with the old furniture, pictures, engravings, mirrors, 
tahles, and chairs. Butty is too tall for strength, I am afraid, 
bat handsome, with a face of great power and character, and a 
very nice girl. Katie you know all about. Macready, de- 
cidedly much older and infirm. Very much changed. His old 
force has gone out of him strangely. I don't think I left off 
talking a minute from the time of my entering the house to my 
going to bed last night, and he was as much amused and inter- 
ested as ever I saw him ; still he was, and is, unquestionably 

And even now I am obliged to cut this letter short by having 
to go and look after Headland. It would never do to be away 
from the rest of them. I have no idea what we are doing here ; 
no notion whether things are right or wrong; no conception 
where the room is ; no hold of the business at all. For which 
reason I cannot rest without going and looking after the worthy 


Torquay, Wednesday, January 8, 1862. 

You know, I think, that I was very averse to going to Ply- 
mouth, and would not have gone there again but for poor 
Arthur. But on the last night I read " Copperfield," and posi- 
tively enthralled the people. It was a most overpowering 
effect, and poor Andrew ^ came behind the screen, after the 
1 Lieutenant Andrew Gordon, R. N., son of the Sheri£F of Midlothian. 


storm, and cried iii tbe best and manliest manner. AJgo there 
were two or three lines of his Hhipmates ond other sailors, 
and they were extraordinarily affected. But its culminating 
effect was on MacreaJy at Cheltenham. When I got home 
after " Copperfield," I found him quite unable to speak, and 
able to do nothing but square his dear old jaw all on oue side, 
and roll bia eyes (half closed), like Jackson's picture of him. 
And when I said something light about it, he returned ; " No ^ 
er — Dickens I I swear to Heaven that, as a piece of paasionand 
playfulness — er — indescribably mixed up together, it doea — 
er — no, really, Dickens 1 — amaze me as profoundly as it moves 
me. Uut as a piece of art — and you know — er — that I — 
no, Dickena ! Hy ! have seen the best art in a great time 

— it is incomprehensible to me. How is it got at — er — how 
is it done — er — how one man can — well 1 It lays me on mj 

— er — back, and it is of no use talking about it ! " With which 
he put his hand upon my breast and pulled out his pockel- 
Jiandkcrchief, and 1 felt aa if I were doing somebody to hii 
Werner. Katie, by the bye, is a wonderful audience, and has s 
great fund of wild feeling in her. Johnny not at all unlike 



Gad's Hill Plack, -Hicham bt Rochester, Kent, 

Fridmy, 24th January, 1862. 

My dear Bulwer Lytton, — I have considered your 
questions, and here follow my replies. 

1. I think you undouhtedly have the right to forbid the 
toming of your play into an opera. 

2. I do not think the production of such an opera in the 
slightest degree likely to injure the play or to render it a less 
valuable property than it is now. If it could have any effect 
OD so standard and popular a work as '' The Lady of Lyons/' 
the effect would, in my judgment, be beneficial. But I believe 
the play to be high above any such influence. 

3. Assuming you do consent to the adaptation, in a desire to 
oblige Oxenford, I would not recommend your asking any pecu- 
niary compensation. This for two reasons: firstly, because 
the compensation could only be small at the best; secondly, 
because your taking it would associate .you (unreasonably^ but 
not the less assuredly) with the opera. 

The only objection I descry is purely one of feeling. Pauline 
trotting about in front of the float, invoking the orchestra with 
a limp pocket-handkerchief, is a notion that makes goose-flesh 
of my beck. Also a yelping tenor going away to the wars in a 
scene half an hour long is painful to contemplate. Damas, too, 
as a basS; with a grizzled bald head, blatantly bellowing about 

Years long ago, 

When the sound of the drum 
First made his blood glow 

With a mm ti tum turn — 

rather sticks in my throat ; but there really seems to me to be 
no other objection, if you can get over this. 

Ever affectionately. 


Gad's Hill Place, Hioham bt Rochester, Kent, 

Monday, February 10, 1862. 

My dear Girls, — For if I were to write " young friends," 
it would look like a schoolmaster ; and if I were to write 


" young ladies," it would look like a schoolmistress; and worse 
thaii that, neither form of worda would look familiar and nat- 
ural, or in cliaracter with our snowy ride that tooth'chatteriiig 
mo ruing. 

1 cannot t«ll you both how gratified I was hy your reniem- 
brance, or how often I think of you bb I emoke the admirable 
cigars. But I almost think you must have had soine magnetic 
cousciouancBE acroea the Atlantic of my whiffing my love towards 
you from tlie garden here. 

My daughter says that when you have settled those little 
public affairs at home, she hopes you will come hack to Eng- 
land (possibly in united states) and give a minute or two to 
this part of Kent, Her words are, "a day or two;" bat I 
remember your Italian flights, and correct the message. 

I have only just now finished my country readings, and have 
had nobody to make breakfast for me since the remote ages of 
Colchestor 1 

Ever faithfully yours. 

delicacies with which he renilero'l his conception dear were 
extremely subtile j and in |iarliculur h*- avoided that Iirutality 
towards (!)phelia which, with a greater or less amount of coarse- 
DSBti, I have seen in all othdc Hamlets. As a mere four tie 
faTCf; it would have been very remarkable in its disclosure of 
t perfeutly wonderful knowledge of the force of the Euglisb 
liiigaage ; but its merit was far beyond and above this. Vot- 
eig)] accent, of course, but not at all a disagreeable one. And 
he yn» so obviously safe and at ease, that you were never in 
pain for him as a foreigner. Add to this a perfectly pictur- 
esque and romantic " make-up," and a remorseless destruction 
of all conventionalities, and yoti have the leading virtues of the 
impersonation. In Othello he did not succeed. In lago he is 
very good. He ia an admirable artist, and far beyond any one 
on our stage. A real artist and a gentleman. 

La^t Thursday 1 began reading again in London — a con- 
douatfon of " Copperfield," and " Mr. Bob Sawyer's Party," 
from ** Pickwick," to finish merrily. The success of ■' Copper- 
titld " is astounding. It made an impression that / must not 
describe. I may only remark that I was half dead when I had 
done; and that although I had looked forward, all through the 
mnmer, when I was carefully getting it up, to its being a 
I^ndon eensatton ; and that although Macready, hearing it at 
Cheltonham, told me to be prepared for a groat effect, it even 
Went beyond my hopes. I read again next Thutsday, and the 
nieh for places is quite furious. Tell Townshend this with my 
'i>»e, if yoa see him before I have time to write to him ; and 
tell him that I thought the people would never let me go away, 
Uiuy became so excited, and showed it so very warmly. I am 
g to plan out a new book, but have not got beyond trying. 
Yours aSectionat«ly. 


AR THOKNBnRT, — The Bow Street runners ceased 
*rt <i the land soon after the introduction of the (\eNJ ^Vwa, 
1 wniemlmr them very well as standing about VW ioot oV ftvft 
"" •« Benr S treet. They had no other unilotm VWn a \i\ia 
9 buttons (I am not even now attta VWt \A\a.V 'naa 


necessary), and a bright red cloth waistcoat. The waistcoat 
was indispensable, and the slang name for them was "red- 
breoHt," in consequence. 

They kept comiiany with thieves and the like, much more 
than the detective police Jo. I don't know what their pay was, 
but 1 have no doubt their principal complements were got under 
the ruse. It was a very slack institution, and its heailquart^rs 
were The Brown Bear, in Bow Street, a public-house of mora 
than doubtful reputation, opposite the police-office ; and either 
the houHO which is now the theatrical costume-maker's, or the 
next door to it. 

Field, who advertises the Secret Inquiry Office, wns a Bow 
Street runner, and can tell you all about it ; Goddard, who also 
advertisea an inquiry office, was another of the fraternity. 
They are the only two I know of as yet existing in a " ques- 
tionable shape." 

Faithfully yours always. 



with apprehension. The newsBity of providing change for her 
will probably take us across the water very early in the auttiinn ; 
and this again unsettles home schemes here, and withers many 
kinds of fern. If they knew (by " they " I me-an my daughter 
and Miss Hogarth) that I was writing to you, they would charge 
me with many messages of regard. But as I am shut up in my 
room in a ferocious and unapproachable condition, owing to the 
gnat Bccoraulation of letters I have to answer, I will tell them 
kt lunch that I have anticipated their wish. As 1 know they 
have hills for me to pay, and are at present shy of producing 
them, I wish to preserve a gloomy and repellent reputation. 
My dear Mr. Baylla, faithfully yours always. 


G*u's Hill, Tuesday, October 7, 186B. 
I do not preach consolation, because I am unwilling to preach 
it «iy time, and know my own weakness too well. But in thia 
wotld tliere ia no stay but the hope of a hetter, and no reliance 
liut cm the mercy and goodness of God. Through those two 
hdrbours of a shipwrecked heart, I fully believe that you will, 
iu time, find a peaceful resting-place even on this careworn 
«rth. Heaven speed the time, and do you try hard to help it 
OD 1 It is impossible to say bnt that our prolonged grief for 
the beloved dead may grieve them in their unknown ahidtng- 
pUce, and give them tronhle. The one influencing considera- 
tian in all you do as to your disposition of yourself (coupled, of 
"June, with a real earnest strenuous endeavour to recover the 
W tone of npiritj is, that you think and feel you cjtu do. I 
du not in the least regard your change of course in going to 
I as any evidence of instability. But I rather hope it is 
that through such restlessness you will come to a far 
«r frame of mind. The disturbed mind and affections, like 
eldom calm without an intervening time of 
, and trouble. 

ng is to be attained without striving. In a deter- 
to sietlle the thoughts, to parcel out the day, to 
opcupiition regntarly or to make it, to be up Mii i\<yw.^ 
•omelhing. nre chicfl/ hi be found the mere mccWmcaV witMia 
'the aid of the beat mental cSotW. 

I day here, in the wny ol ■b\<i-wm% a^A. 


raining, and as darkly dismal, at four o'clock, as need be. Mj 
head ia but just now raised from a day's writing, but I will not 
lose the post without Bending you a word. 

Katie was here yesterday, just come back from Clara ^\'hile's 
(that was), in Scotland. In the midst of her brilliant fortmie, 
it is too clear to mo that she is already beckoned away to fol- 
low her dead sisters, Macready was here from Saturday even- 
ing to yesterday morning, older but looking wonderfully well, 
Eind (what is very rare in these times) with the old thick sweep 
of hair upon his head. Georgina being left alone here the 
other day was done no good to by a great consteTnation among 
the servants. On going down stairs, she found Marsh (the 
stableman) seated with great dignity and anguish in on arm- 
chair, and incessantly crying out : " I am dead." To which 
the women servants said with great pathos (and with some ap- 
pearance of reason) r "No, you ain't. Marsh ! " And to which 
he persisted in replying; "Yes, I am; I am dead!" Some 
neigiihouring vagabond was impressed to drive a cart over to 
Rochester and fetch the doctor, who said (the patient and his 
consolers being all very anxious that the heart should be the 


and do your work. I am qutt« c^oufidtint that, with your notes 
anil a few words of explanation, 1 could takt) it up at any time 
and do it. Absurdly unnecessary to say that it wuuld be a 
makeshift! But I could do it at a picdi, so like you as that 
no otie should hud ont the difference. Dou't make much of 
this otfer in jour mind ; it is nothing, except to ease it. If 
you should want help, I um as safe aa the bank. The trouble 
would be nothing to nie, and the triumph of overcoming a dif- 
ficulty great. Think it a Christmes number, an "Idle Ap- 
prentice,'' a " Lighthouse," a " Frozen Ilecp." I am as ready 
u in any of these cases to strike in and bammur the hot iron 

You won't want me. You will be well (and thankless !) in 
DO tim&. But there I am ; and I hope that the knowledge may 
he a comfort to you. Call me, and I come. 

Aa Beard always has a aense of medical respondbOity, and 
Bays anything important about a patient in confidence, I have 
merely remarked here that " Wilkie "' is out of aorta, Charley 
(who is here with Katie) has no other cue from me. 

Ever affectionately. 


^^Hifr DF.Ait Peihtf-r. — You know, I believe, bow our letters 
^^^netl, and that I am here until Christmas, Also, you know 
with what pleasure and readiness I should have responded to 
iwir invilation if I had Iwen in London. 

Pray tell Paul Wval that I shall be charmed to know him, 
ud that I shall feci the strongest interest in making bia ac- 
quinlance. It almost puts me out of humour Paris (and 
it takes a greAt deal to do that )) to think that I was not at 
fcome to prevail upon him to come with you, and he welcomed 
hi fiad's lliU ; hut either there or here, I hope (o become bis 
ttiind befom this present old year is out. Pray tell him so. 

You say nothing in your note of your Lyceum preparationa. 
I ln»t they are all going on well. There is a fine o\ieninif, ^ot 
foo, I am sure, with a good beginning ; but Ibe \m\iO'rt«ivcB lA 
hegiaaiag it voty great. If you ever W\e t\TOB anA. 
nota what you ate b.\)OiA, J~ 


can Buarcely interest me more, aa tny wislies and strongest £ym- 
piktbies are for and with your euccesa — maU cela ra saitsdire. 
I went to the Chatelet (a beautiful theatre !) the other night 
to see " Rothomago," but was so mortally i/ene with the poor 
nature of the piece and of the acting, that I came out again 
when tliere was a week or two (I mean an hour or two, but the 
houTB seemed weeks) yet to get through. 

My dear Fechter, very faithfully yours always. 


Pabib, Rue nu Facbouro St. Hoioiti, IT, 

Fridsy, Tlh Nuvcmber, 1863. 

My dear Letitia, — I should have written to you from 
here sooner, but for having been constantly occupied. 

Your improved account of yourself is very cheering and hope- 
ful. Through determined occupation and action lies the way. 
Be sure of it. 

I came over to France before Georgina and Mary, and went 
to Boulogne to meet them coming in by the steamer on the 
great Sunday — the day of the etorm, I stood (holding 


officer from Chatbatn whom they kni-w very well (when dry), 
just married and going {o India ! So they all set up hoiiBC- 
keeping together at Dcssin's at Calais (where I am well known), 
and looked as if they Lad been passing a mild summer there. 

We have a pretty apartment here, hut house-rent is awful to 
mention. Mrs. Bouncer (muaaled hy the PariBian police) is 
also here, and is a wonderful apectucle to behold in the streets, 
restrained like a raging Lion. 

I learn from an embassy here, that the Emperor baa just 
made an earnest proposal to o\ir Government to unite with 
France (and Hussia, if Russia will) in an appeal to America to 
stop the brutal war. Our Government's answer is not yet 
received, but I thtnk I clearly perceive that the proposal will 
be declined, ou the ground " that the time has not yet come." 
Ever aifettionutely. 



Paris, Saturday. December B, 1888. 
R DEAR Fechter, — I have read "The ^Vliite Rose" 

tentively, and think it an extremely good play. It is vigorously 
written, with a great knowledge of the stage, anil presents many 
Bttikiug situations. I think the close particularly fine, impree- 
Mve, bold, and new, 

Vut I greatly doubt the expediency of your doing ani/ his- 
torical play early in your raanngement. By the words " hietori- 
al lilftj," T mean a play founded on any incident in EngUah 
hiatory. Our public are accustomed to associate historical plays 
witli Shakespeare. In any other hands, I believe they care very 
lilll*' fiir crowns and dukedoms. ^Vhat yon want is something 
*illi itu interest of a more domestic and general nature — an in- 
•wwt as romantic as yon please, but having a more general and 
*iJer reiiponse than a disputed Buceession to the throne can 
^ye for Englishmen at this time of ilay. Sncli interest cul- 
linnlcd in the last Stuart, and has worn itself out. It woiiltl 
t* Up-hill work to evoke an in Perkin Warbeok. 

I do not doubt tiie play's being well received, but my fear is 
•W thBBe people wotdd be lookml upon as mere fttetiacttoaB, wii 
■onld have but a coM iroJcome in consequence, tmd -WQiAi w-A 

" ^JM of y our audience. How, when yovi havt, WA \\oV A A 
id have eccuslomed them to jout theaVi ^^ 


niay produce " Tlie Wliite Rose " with far greater justice to the 
author ami to the manager also. Wait. Feel yonr way. Perldli 
Warheck is too fur removed from analogy with the aympathiea 
and lives of the people for a begimiiiig. 

My dear Fechter, ever faithfully yours. 


Ssturila}-, December 37, 1SB2. 

My dear Mart, — I must send you my Cliristmaa greet- 
ing nnd Happy New Year wishes in return for youra ; moat 
heartily and fervently reciprocating your interest and affection. 
You are among the few whom I most care for and best love. 

Being in London two evenings in the opening week, I tried 
to persuade my legs (for whose judgment I have the highest re- 
8]jeet) to go ta au evening party. But I could not induce them 
to pass Leicester Square. The faltering preeeotinieiit under 
which they laboured so impressed me, that at that point I 
yielded to their terrors. They immediately ran away to the 


report my safe (and neuralgic) arrival here. My little rooma are 
perfectly comfortable, and I like the hotel better than any I 
have ever put up at in Paris. John's amazement at and appre- 
ciktion of Paris nre indescribahlc. He goes about with his 
mouth open, staring at everything and beiag tumbled over by 

The state dinner at the Etnbossy, yesterday, coming off in 
the room where I am to read, the carpenters did not get in until 
this morning. But their plalforma were ready — or supposed 
to be — and the preparations are in briek progress. I think it 
will be a Iiandaome affair to look at — a very liandsome one. 
There seems to be great artistic curiosity in Paris to know what 
kind of thing the reading is. 

I know a "rela-shon" (with one weak eye), who is in the 
gnnmaking line, very near here. There is a strong family 
mBmblance — but no muxzle. Lady Molesworth and I have 
not begun to "toddle" yet, but have exchanged oifectionate 
graetings. 1 aiu going round to see her presently, and I dine 
»ith her on Sunday. The only remaining news is, that I ara 
loet by roj-BteriouH adorerE, and smnggle myself in and ont 
<4 the honse in the meanest and lia^fst manner. 
With kind regard to Mr. and Mrs. Huniphery, 

~ ■, my dearest Mamey, your affectionate father. 

i, — ffomma^f a Madame B,/ 


Pakik, Smidsf, Febrairr t, 1S$9. 

f DCAR Rrokibr, — I waa charmed by the receipt of your 
1 and sympathetic letter, and 1 shall always preserve it 
nnfully as a moat noble tributo from a great and real artiet, 

1 wished you had been at the Emhaasy on Friday evening. 
Tlifc Buiiience was a fine one, and the "Carol" is particularly 
""11 adapted to the purjiose. It is an uncommon pleasure to 
"w In learn that I nm to meet you on Tuesday, for there are 
iny men whom I meet with greater pleasure than you. 
n I how the years roll by 1 We are quite oVi Im^i* 
Ejn coanting hj fears. If we add eym^tV\«», "«* Vvn 
" » t IboueoDd years. 

Affection&U-Ay ^oun v^ 


HoTBL nu Hkldsk, pABia. Sunday. Fclinurr 1, 1S3& 

My dearest Mamie, — I cannot give you any idea of the 

success of the reailiiigs here, because no one con imagine ILa 
scene of last Friday night at the Embassy. Such audiences 
and auch enthusiasm I have never seen, but the thing culmi- 
nated on Friday uiglit in a two hours' storm of excitement and 
pleiisure. They actually recommenced and applauded right 
away into their carriages and down the street. 

You know your parent's horror of being lionised, and will 
not be surprised to hear that I am half dead of it. I cannot 
leave here until Thursday (though I am every hour in danger 
of running away) because I have to dine out, to say nothing of 
breakfasting — think of me breakfasting! — every intervening 
day. But my project is to send John home on Thursday, and 
then to go on a little perfectly quiet tour for about ten daye, 
touching the sea at Boulogne. When I get there, I will writ* 
to your aunt (in case you should not be at home), saying when 

that noble and sad story ia most nobly and sadly rendered, and 
perfectly delighted me. But I think it requires too much of 
the audienee to do for a Ijondon opera-house. The composer 
rouKt be a very remarkable man indeed. Some management of 
light througliout the story is also very poetical and line. We 
liad Carvalho's box. I could hardly bear the thing, it affected 
me so. 

But, as a certain Frenchman said, " No weakness, Dantoo ! " 
I leave otL 


P*RiB, Wfrtnemlav, Februarj- 4, 1883. 

Mr DEAR Fechteb, — A thousand congratulations on your 
gT8»t success 1 Never mind what they say, or do. potir vovg 
»f«raser : you have the game in your hands. The romantic 
druna, thoroughly well done (with a touch of Eilliakespeare now 
iMd then) is the specialty of your theatre. Oive the public the 
picturesque, romantic drama, with yoursolf in it ; and (ati 
t<tld you in thu beginning) you may throw down your g 
in ilefiatice of all comers. 

It is a most brilliant success indeed, and it thoroughly 
S^oices my heart I 

Unfortunately I cannot now hope to see " Maquet," because 
I un packing up and going out to dinner (it ia kto in the after- 
Qoon), and I leave to-morrow morning whon all sensible people, 
Accept myself, are in bed ; and I do not come back to Paris or 
n«n it. I had hoped to see htm at bieakfaat last Monday, but 
l» was not there, Paul F{<val was there, and I found him a 
«»liil«J fellow. If I can do anything to help you on with 
"Mgqnct" ' when I como back I will most glsdly do it. 

Uy icadingB here have had the finest possible rcre[>tion, and 
nwe achieved a most noble success. I never before read lo such 
fins audiences, so very quick of perception, and so enthuaiasti- 
wllj resjionsive, 
I shall be heartily pleased to see you again, my dear Fechter, 
share your triumphs with the real earnestness of a real 
And so go on and prosper, and believe me.aa \\V5 a.T&, 
Most cotdrnW;) -jouTa, 


iog of the day when the theatre opened, surrounded by shavings 
and carpenters, and (of course) with that inevitable hammer 
going ; and I told Fechter, " That is the very best piece of 
womanly tenderness I have ever seen on the stage, and you 'U 
find that no audience can miss it." It is a comfort to add that 
it was instantly seized upon, and is much talked of. 

Stanfield was very ill for some months, then suddenly picked 
np) and is really rosy and jovial again. Groing to see him when 
he was very despondent, I told him the story* of Fechter's piece 
(then in rehearsal) with appropriate action ; fighting a duel with 
the washing-stand, defying the bedstead, and saving the life of 
the aofa-cushion. This so kindled his old theatrical ardour, 
that I think he turned the comer on the spot. 

With love to Mrs. Macready and Katie, and (be still, my 
heart !) Benvenuta, and the exiled Johnny (not too attentive at 
achool, I hope ?), and the personally unknown young Parr, 
Ever, my dearest Macready, your most affectionate. 


Office of "All the Year Round,** 
Thursday, Februar}' 26, 1863. 

My dear Marguerite, — I think I have found a first-rate 
title for your book, with an early and a delightful association 
in most people's minds, and a strong suggestion of Oriental 
pictures : — 


I have sent it to Low's. If they have the wit to see it, do 
yon in your first chapter touch that string, so as to bring a 
fanciful explanation in aid of the title, and sound it afterwards, 
now and again, when you come to anything where Haroun al 
Baschid, and the Grand Vizier, and Mesrour, the chief of the 
guard, and any of that wonderful dramatis personam are vividly 
brought to mind. 

Ever afTectionately. 


Office of "All the Tear Roukd,** 
Wednesday, March 4, 1863. 

My dear Charles Knight, — At a quarter to seven on 
Monday, the 16th, a stately form will be descried breathing 


birthday cordialities and affectionate amenities, as it desoeods 
the broken and gently dipping ground by which the level 
country of the Clifton Road is attained.* A practised eye will 
be able to discern two humble figures in attendance, which from 
their flowing crinolines may, without exposing the prophet to 
the imputation of rashness, be predicted to be women. Though 
certes their importance, absorbed and as it were swallowed up 
in the illustrious bearing and determined purpose of the maturer 
stranger, will not enthrall the gaze that wanders over the forest 
of San Giovanni as the night gathers in. 

Ever affectionately, 

G. P. B. Jambs. 


Office op "All the Year Rouhd," 
No. 26, Wellington Street, Strand, London, W. C, 

Tuesday, March 10, 1863. 

Dear Mrs. Lehmann, — Two stalls for to-morrow's read- 
ing were sent to you by post before I heard from you this 
morning. Two will always come to you while you remain it 
Gummidge, and I hope I need not say that if you want more, 
none could be better bestowed in my sight. 

Pray tell Lehmann, when you next write to him, that I find 
I owe him a mint of money for the delightful Swedish sleigh- 
bells. They are the wonder, awe, and admiration of the whole 
country-side, and I never go out without them. 

Let us make an exchange of child stories. I heard of a 
little fellow the other day whose mamma had been telling him 
that a French governess was coming over to him from Paris, 
and had been expatiating on the blessings and advantages of 
having foreign tongues. After leaning his plump little cheek 
against the window glass in a dreary little way for some min- 
utes, he looked round and inquired in a general way, and not 
as if it had any special application, whether she did n't think 
" that the Tower of Babel was a great mistake altogether ? " 

Ever faithfully yours. 




Ofpicb of *'All thk Tear Round," 
26, Wellington Street, Strand, 
Thursday, March 12, 1863. 

Mt dear Mart^ — I am quite concerned to hear that you 
and your party (including your brother Willie) paid for seats at 
mj leading last night. You must promise me never to do so 
my more. My old affections and attachments are not so lightly 
eherished or so easily forgotten as that I can bear the thought 
of you and yours coming to hear me like so many strangers. It 
will at all times delight me if you will send a little note to me, 
or to Georgina, or to Mary, saying when you feel inclined to 
come, and how many stalls you want. You may always be cer- 
tain, even on the fullest nights, of room being made for you. 
And I shall always be interested and pleased by knowing that 
you are present. 

Mind ! You are to be exceedingly penitent for last night's 
offence, and to make me a promise that it shall never be 
repeated. On which condition accept my noble forgiveness. 

With kind regard to Mr. Major, my dear Mary, 

Affectionately yours. 

CCCCLXXI. w. c. macready 

Gad's Hill Place, Hioham by Rochester, Kent, 

Thursday, March 31, 1863. 

My dearest Macready, — I mean to go on reading into 
June. For the sake of the finer effects (in "Copperfield" 
principally), I have changed from St. James's Hall to the 
Hanover Square Eoom. The latter is quite a wonderful room 
for sound, and so easy that the least inflection will tell any- 
where in the place exactly as it leaves your lips ; but I miss my 
dear old shilling galleries — six or eight hundred strong — with 
a certain roaring sea of response in them, that you have stood 
upon the beach of many and many a time. 

The summer, I hope and trust, will quicken the pace at 
which you grow stronger again. I am but in dull spirits myself 
just now, or I should remonstrate with you on your slowness. 

1 Formerly Miss Talfoard. 


Havicg two little boys sent home from school " to see the 
iliui]imu.tioris " on the marriage-night, I chartered an eaormom 
van, at a coat of five pounJa, and we started in majesty from 
the office in London, fourteen strong. We crossed Waterloo 
Bridge with the happy design of beginning the sight at London 
Bridge, and working our way through the City to Kegeut Street. 
In a bye-atreet in the Borough, over against a dead wall and 
under a railway bridge, we were blocked for four hours. We 
were obliged to walk home at last, having seen nothing what- 
ever. Tho wretched van turned up in the course of the next 
morning ; and the best of it wna that at Kochester here thsy 
illuminated the fine old cattle, and really made a very splendid 
and picturesque thing {so my neighbours tell me). 

With love to Mra, Mncready and Katie, 

Ever, my dearest Macready, your most affectionate. 

apot I sb&U try to buy eomething id loving remembrance of 
him, good dear little fellow. Tbink what a great " Fcoien 
Deep " lay doge under tlioae boards we acted on ! My brother 
Alfred, Luard, Arlliur, Albert, Austin, Egg. Even among the 
Kudieoce, Prince Albert and poor Stone ! " I heard the "' — I 
forget what it was I used to aay — " come up from the great 
do«p ; " and it rings in uiy ears now, like a sort of mad 

iTon't do. We must close up the ranks and 

I _ Howei 


ccccLxxni. I 

Gad's HIL^ Msy IT, 1803. 

that you may 

. that I want to 

Mt deak Brookfield, — 
perhaps know, or know of, a kind of 

One of my boys (the youngest) now is at Wimbledon School, 
He is a dodle, amiable boy of fair abilities, but sensitive and 
Ay. And he writes mo so very earnestly that he feels the 
school to be confusingly lai^e for him, and be is sure he could 
do better with some gentleman who gave his own personal 
Attention to the education of half a dozen or a dozen boys, as to 
impress me with the belief that I ought to heed his conviction. 

Has any such phenomenon as a good and reliable man in 
this wise ever come in your way ? Foi^ve my troubling you, 
^gA believe me. Cordially yours. 


^^fc 0*D"« Hill Pi-acc IIioiiah bt RnciiiLSTKit. Kknt. May 34, 1863. 
Mr DKAB Brookj-ield, — I am moat truly obliged to you 
forj'onr kind nod ready hel|i. 

When 1 nm in town next week, I will call upon the Bishop 
dI KoLal, mom to tliank liim than with the hope of profiting by 
that grutlcraun of whom he writes, as the limitation to "little 
bojii" seems to stop the way. I want to find some one with 
'hoin this particular boy could remain ; if there were a mutual 
uUtirent and liking, that would be a great point gained. 

^V'h)^ did the k'lDga in the fairy tales -want c\i\\4i«at \ 
i>AiJfcWfaww of the royal intellect. 

miGDibered as ThacVerfty's coTTeBpaivl 


Concerning " Nickleliy," I am so much of your mind (com- 
I paring it with " CopptTfield "), that it was a long time before 1 
I could take a plcaauro in reading it. But I got better, us 1 
I {ounij tliB audience always takiug to it. I have been trying, 
: by myself, the " Oliver Twist " murder, but have got 
I something so horrible out of it that I am afraid to try it in 
I p\ibUc. Ever faithfully yours. 


Gad's Hill Placr, Hiohav bt RocRmmt, Ei>t, 

TliurHlii)-, Mar 38, 1B03. 

IK Cekjat, — I don't wonder at your finding it diCB- 

I cult to reconcile your mind to a French Hamlet ; but I assure 

I you that Fechter's is a very remarkable performance perfettly 

I consistent with itself (whether it bo my particular Hamlet, ot 

lur particular Hamlet, or no), a coherent and intelligent 

hole, and done by a true artist. 1 have never seen, I think, 

1 intelligent and clear view of the whole character 80 well 

I austaincd throughout; and there is a very captivating t 

M. DE CEfiJAT 191 

. inverted the relations of the earth and the sun, whatever 
were. Aj;ain, it ia contended that the science 

'geology is quite as much a revelation to man as books of an 
imnutose age and of (at thd beat) dotibtful origin, and that yout 
consideration of tlie lutter muet reasonably be influenced by the 
former. As I understiiud the importance of timely eu^estiona 
such as these, it ie, that the (.'hurch should not gradually shouk 
and lose the more thoughtful and logical of human minds; but 
tthoiild ho so gently and considerately yielding as to retain Ihem, 
and, through Ihera, hundreds of thousands. This seems to me, 
as I uiiderstund the temper and tendency of the time, whether for 
good or evil, to be a very wise and necessary position. And as 
I understaud the dauj^er, it is not chargeable on those who 
take this ground, but on those who in reply call names and 
atigue nothing. What these bishops and such-like say about 
tevelation, ia asBuming it to be finished and done with, I can't 
in the least understand. Nothing is discovered without God's 
intention and axaistance, and I suppose every new knowledge of 
Hia worka that is conceded to man tc he distinctly a revelntioQ 
hj vhich men are to guiile themselves. Lastly, in the mere 
natter of religious doctrine and dogmas, these men (Protestants 
— protestors — successors of tlie men who protested against 
luimaii judgment being set aside) talk and write as if they were 
ill settled by the direct act of Heaven ; not as if they had been, 
■S we know they were, a matter of temporary accommodation 
■ad adjustment amoug disputing mortals as fallible as you 
or I. 

Coming nearer home, I hope that Georgina ia almost quite 
well. She has no attack of pain or flurry now, and is in all 
reapects immensely better. Mary is neither married nor (that 
I laiow of) going to b«. She and Katie and a lot of them have 
beau playing croquet outride my window here for these last four 
days, to a mad and maddening extent. My sailor boy's ship, 
tlie Orlando, is fortunately in Chatham Dockyard — so he ia 
(Mvtty constantly at home — white the shipwrights are repair- 
log a leiik in her. I am reading in London every Friday juat 
DOW. Grwit crams and great enthusiasm. Townshend I sup- 
poao to have left Lausanne somewhere about this dfc'j, W\i 
bouae in the park is iermntically sealed, ready lot V\m. "XVfc 
—^J^'noe«e of Waiea go alwut (wisely") verj rnxM^, wai 
»- ^£ popnliirily oa ever ptiuce anA, 'p™M»B» 


had. The City ball ia their lionoiir is to be a tremendouslv 
gorgeous business, and Mary is highly eiccited by her father's 
being" invited, and she wilh him. Meantime the unworthy 
parent is devising oil kinds of flubterfuges for sending her and 
getting out of it hiniBelf. A very intelligent German friend of 
mine, just home from America, maintains that the conscription 
will succeed in the North, and that the war will be indeSnitelj 
prolonged. / say " No," and that however mad and villainous 
the North is, the war will finish by reason of its not supplying 
soldiers. We shall see. The more they brag the more I don't 
believe in them. 


Friday, Jul; 10, ISSS. 

Deak Madam, — I hope you will excuse this tardy reply to 
your lett«r. It ia often impossible for me, by any means, to 
keep pace ivith my correspondence. I must take leave to say, 
that if there be any general feeling on the part of tlie intelli- 
gent Jewish people, that I have done tliem what you describe 


ought to do) to their perfect good faith m such transactions as 
I have ever had with then ; and in ray " Child's History of 
England," I have lost no opportunity of setting forth their cruel 
perBecution in old times. 

Dear madam, faithfully yours. 


My DEAREST Geobgy, — You will see hy to-day'a " Timee " 
that it wns an earthquake that thook me, and that my watch 
showed exactly the same time as the man'a who writes from 
Blackbeath so near us — twenty minutes past three. 

It is a great satisfaction to me to make it out so precisely ; I 
wish you would inquire whether the servants felt it. I 
thought it was the voice of the cook that answered me, hut 
that was nearly half an hour later. I am strongly inclined to 
think that there is a peculiar susceptibility in iron — at all 
events in our part of the country — to the shock, as though 
there were something magnetic in it. For, whereas my long 
iron bedst«ad was so violently shaken, I certainly heard nothing 
tattle in the room. 

I will viTite about my return as soon as I get on with the 
fitill unbegun " UncommerciaL" Ever affectionately, 


^^^^^H Gad's Hiu. Place, tlionxM bt ItociiEETBii, Ku(T, 

^^^^1 FrlrUv, December 18, 1863. 

llfT DE.IB Chorlbv. — This is a "Social Science " note, 
toocfaing prospective engagements. 

If you aro obliged, as you were last year, to go away betweim 
Chnxtmns Day and New Year's Day, then we rely upon your 
coming hack to see the old year out. Furthennore, I rely upon 
yoQ for this: Lady Moleawortb says she will come down for a 
day or two, an<L I have told her tliat I shall ask you to be her 
enxirt, and to arrange a time. Will you take cown&e\ wVAvVm, 
and arrange suxoidingly ? After our family viaitots ave ftpiv« 
^^S^S * hauling in Hampshire; but ii 50VV uui 
'tld make out from Saturday, tVie W\ o^ 3' 



as your day of coming together, or for any day between thai 
and Saturday, the 16th, it would be beforehand with her going 
and would suit me excellently. There is a new officer at the 

dockyard, vice Captain (now an admiral), and I will take 

that opportunity of paying him and his wife the attention of 
asking them to dine in these goigeous halls. For all of whiek 
reasons, if the Social Science Congress of two could meet and 
arrive at a conclusion, the conclusion would be thankfully 
booked by the illustrious writer of these lines. 

On Christmas Eve there is a train from your own Victoria 
Station at 4.35 p. m., which will bring you to Strood (Rochester 
Bridge Station) in an hour, and there a majestic form will be 
descried in a Basket. 

Tours affectionately. 


Gad'8 Hili^ Sunday, December 20, 1863. 

My dear Wills, — I am clear that you took my cold. 
Why did n't you do the thing completely, and take it away 
from me ? for it hangs by me stilL 

Will you tell Mrs. Linton that in looking over her admirable 
account (most admirable) of Mrs. Grordon's book, I have taken 
out the references to Lockhart, not because I in the least doubt 
their justice, but because I knew him and he liked me ; and 
because one bright day in Rome, I walked about with him for 
some hours when he was dying fast, and all the old faults had 
faded out of him, and the now ghost of the handsome man I 
had first known when Scott^s daughter was at the head of his 
house had little more to do witli this world than she in her 
grave, or Scott in his, or small Hull Littlejohn in his. Lock- 
hart had been anxious to see me all the pre^^ous day (when I 
was away on the Campagna), and as we walked about I knew 
very well that /le knew very well why. He talked of getting 
better, but I never saw him again. This makes me stay Mrs. 
Linton's hand, gentle as it is. 

Mrs. Lirriper is indeed a most brilliant old lady. Grod bless 

I am glad to hear of your being "haunted," and hope to 
increase your stock of such ghosts pretty liberally. 

Ever faithfully. 



Gad'8 Hill, Monday, Janiuuy 24, 1864. 

My dbar Wilkie, — I am horribly behindhand in answer- 
ing your welcome letter ; but I have been so busy, and have had 
the house so full for Christmas and the New Year, and have 
bad so much to see to in getting Frank out to India, that I have 
not been able to settle down to a regular long letter, which I 
mean this to be, but which it may not turn out to be, after all. 
First, I will answer your inquiries about the Christmas num- 
kr and the new book. The Christmas number has been the 
greatest success of all ; has shot ahead of last year ; has sold 
about two hundred and twenty thousand; and has made the 
name of Mrs. Lirriper so swiftly and domestically famous as 
never was. I had a very strong belief in her when I wrote 
about her, finding that she made a great effect upon me ; but 
she certainly has gone beyond my hopes. (Probably you know 
nothing about her ? which is a very unpleasant consideration.) 
Of the new book, I have done the two first numbers, and am 
now beginning the third. It is a combination of drollery with 
romance which requires a great deal of pains and a perfect 
throwing away of points that might be amplified ; but I hope 
it is very good. I confess, in short, that I think it is. Strange 
to say, I felt at first quite dazed in getting back to the large 
canvas and the big brushes ; and even now, I have a sensation 
as of acting at the San Carlo after Tavistock House, which I 
could hardly have supposed would have come upon so old a 

You will have read about poor Thackeray's death — sudden, 
and yet not sudden, for he had long been alarmingly ill. At 
the solicitation of Mr. Smith and some of his friends, I have 
done what I would most gladly have excused myself from 
doing, if I felt I could — written a couple of pages about him 
in what was his own magazine. 

Concerning the Italian experiment, De la Hue is more hope- 
ful than you. He and his bank are closely leagued with the 
powers at Turin, and he has long been devoted to Cavour ; but 
he gave me the strongest assurances (with illustrations) of the 
fusion between place and place, and of the blending of small 
mutually antagonistic characters into one national character, 


progressing cheeringly and certainly. Of course there must be 
discouragements and discrepancies in the first struggles of a 
country previously so degraded and enslaved^ and the time, as 
yet, has been very short. 

I should like to have a day with you at the Goliseum, and on 
the Appian Way, and among the tombs, and with the Orvieta 
But Rome and I are wide asunder, physically as well as morally. 
I wonder whether the dramatic stable, where we saw the mari- 
onettes, still receives the Roman public ? And Lord ! when I 
think of you in that hotel, how I think of poor dear Egg in the 
long front drawing-room, giving on to the piazza, posting up 
that wonderful necromantic volume which we never shall aee 


57, Gloucssteb Placb, Htdk Pass, 
Tuesday, Febnury 83, 1864. 

Mt dear Marcus, — I think the design for the cover €99- 
cellenty and do not doubt its coming out to perfection. The 
slight alteration I am going to suggest originates in a business 
consideration not to be overlooked. 

The word " Our " in the title must be out in the open like 
"Mutual Friend," making the title three distinct large lines — 
" Our" as big as " Mutual Friend." This would give you too 
much design at the bottom. I would therefore take out the 
dustman, and put the Wegg and Boffin composition (which is 
capital) in its place. I don't want Mr. Inspector or the murder 
reward bill, because these points are sufficiently indicated in the 
river at the top. Therefore you can have an indication of the 
dustman in Mr. Inspector's place. Note, that the dustman's 
face should be droll, and not horrible. Twemlow's elbow will 
still go out of the frame as it docs now, and the same with 
Lizzie's skirts on the opposite side. With these changes, work 

Mrs. Boffin, as I judge of her from the sketch, " very good, 
indeed." I want Boffin's oddity, without being at all blinked, 
to be an oddity of a very honest kind, that people will like. 

The dolls' dressmaker is immensely better than she was. I 
think she should now come extremely welL A weird sharpness 
not without beauty is the thing I want. 

Affectionately always. 


57, GiiOUCBSTER Pi^cx, W^ Tuesday, March 1, 1864. 

My dear Knight, — We knew of your being in the Isle 
of Wight, and had said that we should have this year to drink 
your health in your absence. Kely on my being always ready 
•ad happy to renew our old friendship in the flesh. In the 
spirit it needs no renewal, because it has no break. 

Ah, poor Mrs. White ! A sad, sad story ! It is better for 
poor White that that little churchyard by the sea received his 
ashes a while ago than that he should have lived to this time. 

My poor boy ^ was on his way home from an up-country sta- 
tion, on sick leave. He had been very ill, but was not so 
si tiie time. He was talking to some brother-officers in the 
Gdcatta hospital about his preparations for home, when he sud- 
denly became excited, had a rush of blood from the mouth, and 
VIS dead. His brother Frank would arrive out at Calcutta, 
expecting to see him after six years, and he would have been 
deed a month. 

My " working life " is resolving itself at the present into 
another book, in twenty green leaves. You work like a Trojan 
at Ventnor, but you do that everywhere ; and that 's why you 
are so young. 

Mary and Georgina unite in kindest regard to you, and to 
Mrs. Knight, and to your daughters. So do I. And I am 
ever, my dear Knight, 

Affectionately yours. 

P. S. — Serene View ! What a placid address ! 


"All thb Ybar Round'* Office, March, 1864. 

I want the article on " Working Men's Clubs " to refer back 
to " The Poor Man and his Beer " in No. 1, and to maintain 
the principle involved in that eifort. 

Also, emphatically, to show that trustfulness is at the bottom 
of all social institutions, and that to trust a man, as one of a 
body of men, is to place him under a wholesome restraint of 

1 Dickens's second son, Walter Landor. 


social opinion, and is a very much better thing than to make a 
baby of him. 

Also, to point out that the rejection of beer in this clab^ 
tobacco in that club, dancing or what-not in another club, are 
instances that such clubs are founded on mere whims, and there- 
fore cannot successfully address human nature in the geneiil 
and hope to last. 

Also, again to urge that patronage is the curse and blight ci 
all such endeavours, and to impress upon the working men that 
they must originate and manage for themselves. And to ask 
them the question, can they possibly show their detestation of 
drunkenness better, or better strive to get rid of it from among 
them, than to make it a hopeless disqualification in all their 
clubs, and a reason for expulsion. 

Also, to encourage them to declare to themselves and their 
fellow working men that they want social rest and social recrea- 
tion for themselves and their families ; and that these clubs are 
intended for that laudable and necessary purpose, and do not 
need educational pretences or flourishes. Do not let them be 
afraid or ashamed of wanting to be amused and pleased. 


57, Gloucester Place, Tuesday, March 15, 1864. 

My dear Chief Barox, — Many thanks for your kind 
letter, which I find on my return from a week's holiday. 

Your answer concerning poor Thackeray I will duly make 
known to the active spirit in that matter, Mr. Shirley Brooks. 

Your kind invittition to me to come and see you and yours, 
and hear the nightingales, I shall not fail to discuss with 
Forster, and with an eye to spring. I expect to see him pres- 
ently ; the rather as I found a note from him when I came back 
yesterday, describing himself somewhat gloomily as not having 
been well, and as feeling a little out of heart. 

It is not out of order, I hope, to remark that you have been 
much in my thoughts and on my lips lately ? For I really 
have not been able to repress my admiration of the \'igorou8 
dignity and sense and spirit, with which one of the best of judges 
set right one of the dullest of juries in a recent case. 

Believe me ever, very faithfully youra. 

ET, GutDCiSTER Place, TuflKday, March 30, 1B64. 

I FoKSTEB, — I meant to write to you Inst eight, 
suable Wills to get away I had to read a book of Fite- 
gerald's through before I went to bed. 

Conceniitig Eliot, I eat down, a^ I told you, and read the 
book through with the strangest interest and the highest ad- 
miration. I believe it to be us honest, spirited, patient, reli- 
kble, and gallaat a piece of biography as ever was written, the 
care and paini of it astonishing, the completeness of it mas- 
terly ; and what I particularly feel about it is that the dignity of 
the man and the dignity of the book that tells about the man 
always go together, and fit each other. This same quality 
has always iin|iressed me as the great leading specialty of the 
Goidemitb, and enjoins sympnthy willi the subject, knowledge 
of it, and pursuit of it in its own spirit ; but 1 think it even 
more remarkable bure. I declare that apart from the interest 
of having been so put into the time, and enabled lo under- 
Btsnd it, I personally feel quito as much the credit and honuur 
done to literature by such a book. It quite clears out of the 
remembrance a thousand pitiful things, and sets one up in 
heiart again. I am not surprised in the least by Bulwer'a 
entliusiasm. I was as confident about the effect of the book 
when I closed the first volume as I was when I closed the 
aecond with a full heart. No man less in earnest than 
Eliot himself could Lave done it, and I make bold to add that 
it never (xiuld have been done by a man who was so distinctly 
bom to do the work as Eliot woa to do his. 

Saturtlny at Hastings I must give up. I have wavered and 
eonsidercd, and considered and wavered, but if I take that sort 
of holiday, I must have a day to spare after it, and al this 
critical titiiu I have not. If I were to- lose a pa^e of the five 
pumbon I have purposed to myself to be ready by the publica- 
tion day, [ should feel that I had fallen short. I have grown 
banl to satisfy, and write very slowly, and I havp an much bad 
fiction, that ii-ili \<e thought of when I don't want to V.'oHis. (A. 
it, that I am forced to taJce more care than 1 ever tooV. 

Ever iittet\,\o\w.'wsVj;^ 



Gad's Hill Place, Higham bt Bochestbb, Knrr, 
Sunday Momiog, lUy 15, 1864. 

Mt deab Mks. Storbab, — Our family dinner must eont 
off at Gad's Hill, where I have improvements to exhibit^ and 
where I shall be truly pleased to see you and the doctor again. 
I have deferred answering your note, while I have been scheo- 
ing and scheming for a day between this time and our departure. 
But it is all in vain. My engagements have accumulated, 
and become such a whirl, that no day is left me. Nothing ii 
left me but to get away. I look forward to my release from 
this dining life with an inexpressible longing after quiet and 
my own pursuits. What with public speechifying, private eat- 
ing and drinking, and perpetual simmering in hot rooms, I have 
made London too hot to hold me and my work together. Mary 
and Greorgina acknowledge the condition of imbecility to which 
we have become reduced in reference to your kind reminder. 
They say, when I stare at them in a forlorn way with your 
note in my hand : " What can you do ! " To which I can 
only reply, implicating them : " See what you have brought 
me to ! '' 

With our united kind regard to yourself and Dr. Storrar, I 
entreat your pity and compassion for an unfortunate wretch 
whom a too-confiding disposition has brought to this pass. If 
I had not allowed my " cheeild " to pledge me to all manner of 
fellow-creatures, I and my digestion might have been in a state 
of honourable independence this day. 

Faithfully and penitently yours. 


Office of "All thb Year Rouhd," 

Wednesday, July 27, 1864. 

My deab Mb, Fitzgerald, — First, let me assure you 
that it gave us all real pleasure to see your sister and you at 
Gad's Hill, and that we all hope you will both come and stay 
a day or two with us when you are next in England. 

Next, let me convey to you the intelligence that I resolve to 
launch " Miss Manuel," fully confiding in your conviction of 


the power of the story. On all business points. Wills will com- 
manicate with you. I purpose beginning its publication in our 
first September number, therefore there is no time to be lost. 

The only suggestion I have to make as to the MS. in hand 
and type is, that Captain Fermor wants relief. It is a disagree- 
able character, as you mean it to be, and I should be afraid to 
do 80 much with him, if the case were mine, without taking the 
tttfce of him, here and there, out of the reader's mouth. It is 
lemarkable that if you do not administer a disagreeable charac- 
ter carefully, the public have a decided tendency to think that 
^ itory is disagreeable, and not merely the fictitious person. 

What do you think of the title, 


U ii a good one in itself, would express the eldest sister's pur- 
Mit, and, glanced at now and then in the text, would hold the 
leader in suspense. I would propose to add the line, 


Let me know your opinion as to the title. I need not assure 
joa that the greatest care will be taken of you here, and that 
we shall make you as thoroughly well and widely known as we 
poesibly can. 

Very faithfully yours. 


Gad's Hill Place, Higham by Rochester, Kent, 

Friday, August 26, 1864. 

My dear Tennent, — Believe me, I fully intended to come 

to you — did not doubt that I should come — and have greatly 

disappointed Mary and her aunt, as well as myself, by not 

coming. But I do not feel safe in going out for a visit. The 

mere knowledge that I had such a thing before me would put 

me out. It is not the length of time consumed, or the distance 

traversed, but it is the departure from a settled habit and a 

continuous sacrifice of pleasures that comes in question. This 

is an old story with me. I have never divided a book of my 

writing with anything else, but have always wrought at it to the 

exclusion of everything else ; and it is now too late to change. 


After receiving your kind note I resolved to make another 
trial. But the hot weather and a few other drawbuckB did not 
mend the matter, for I have dropped aatera this month iufitesd 
of going aliead. So I have seen Forater, and shown liim my 
chains, itnd am reduced to taking exercise in them, like Baroo 

I am heartily pleased that you Bet so much store by the 
dedication. You may be sure that it does not make nia the leas 
anxious to take pains, and to work out well what 1 have in my 

Mary and Geocgina unite with me in kindest regards to Lady 
Tenitent and Miss Tennent, and wish mo to report that while 
they are seriously disappointed, they still feel there is no help 
for it. I ean testify that they had great pleasure in the antici- 
pation of the visit, and that their faces were very long and blsnk 
indeed when I began to hint my doubts. They fought against 
them valiantly as long aa there was s chance, hut they see my 
difficulty as well aa any one not myself can. 

Beiievo uic, my dear Tenneut, ever faithfully yours. 


with no wingSi no flies, no looking off in any direction. If you 
tell me that you are to be in town by that time, I will not fail 
to refresh your memory as to the precise day. 

With kind regards to Mrs. Staniield, believe me, my dear 
old boy, 

Ever your affectionate Dick. 


Lord Warden Hotel, Dover, 
Sunday, 16th October, 1864. 

Mt dbar Wills, — T was unspeakably relieved, and most 
agreeably surprised, to get your letter this morning. I had 
pictured you as lying there waiting full another week, whereas, 
please (jod, you will now come up with a wet sheet and a flow- 
ing sail — as we say in these parts. 

My expectations of '^ Mrs. Lirriper's " sale are not so mighty 
as yours, but I am heartily glad and grateful to be honestly 
able to believe that she is nothing but a good 'un. It is the 
eondensation of a quantity of subjects and the very greatest 

George Kussell knew nothing whatever of the slightest doubt 
of your being elected at the Garrick. Rely on my probing the 
matter to the bottom and ascertaining everything about it, and 
giving you the fullest information in ample time to decide what 
shall be done. Don't bother yourself about it. I have spoken. 
On my eyes be it. 

As next week will not be my working-time at " Our Mutual 
Friend," I shall devote the day of Friday (not the evening) to 
making up news. Therefore I write to say that if you would 
rather stay where you are than come to London, don^t come, I 
shall throw my hat into the ring at eleven, and shall receive all 
the punishment that can be administered by two Nos. on end 
like a British Glutton. 



Gad's Hill Placr, Hicham by Rochkstbr, 
Tuesday, October 25, 1864. 

My dear Cerjat, — Here is a limping brute of a reply to 
your always* welcome Christmas letter ! But, as usual, when I 



I have done my day's work, I jump up from my deak Qni] rush 
I into nir and exercise, and find letter-writing the most difficult 
I thing in my daily life. 

I hope that your asthmatic teudencieH may not be «itroDg just 

low j but Townsbend'a account of the premature winter at 

I Lausanne is not encouraging, and with us here in England all 

I such diaorderN have been aggravated thi£ autumn. However, 

man of your dignity m/uat have either asthma or gout, and I 

lope you have got the better of the two. 

In London there is, as you see by the papers, extraordinarily 

I little news. At present the apprehension (rather leas than it 

i thought) of a commercial crisis, and the trial of Mliller 

Inext Tluirsday, are the two chief sensations. I hope that 

1 gentleman will be hanged, and have hardly a doubt of it, 

I though croakers contrariwiee are not wanting. It is difficult to 

e any other line of defence than that the circumstaDcee 

I proved, taken separately, are slight. But a sound judge will 

limraediatelj charge the jury that the strength of the drcum- 

1 stances lies in their being put together, and will thread them 

I together on a fatal rope. 


less arbitiaiy pretensions and a stronger hold upon the mantle 
of our Saviour, as He walked and talked upon this earth. 

Of family intelligence I have very little. Charles Collins 
ooniinuing in a very poor way, and showing no signs of amend- 
ment. He and my daughter Katie went to Wieshaden and 
thence t^ Nice, where they are now. I have strong apprehen- 
sions that he will never recover, and that she will be left a 
young widow. All the rest are as they were. Mary neither 
married nor going to be ; Georgina holding them all together 
and perpetually corresponding with the distant ones ; occasional 
nllyings coming off here, in which another generation begins to 
peep above the table. I once used to think what a horrible 
thing it was to be a grandfather. Finding that the calamity 
lalla upon me without my perceiving any other change in 
mjaelf, I bear it like a man. 

Mrs. Watson has bought a house in town, to which she r&- 
pain in the season, for the bringing out of her daughter. Slie 
k now at Bockingham. Her eldest son is said to be as good an 
eldest son as ever was, and to make her position there a per- 
fectly independent and happy one. I have not seen him for 
some years ; her I often see ; but he ought to be a good fellow, 
and is very popular in his neighbourhood. 

I have altered this place very much since you were here, and 
haTe made a pretty (I think an unusually pretty) drawing-room. 
I wish you would come back and see it. My being on the 
Dover line, and my being very fond of France, occasion me to 
crofis the Channel perpetually. Whenever I feel that I have 
vorked too much, or am on the eve of overdoing it, and want a 
change, away I go by the mail- train, and turn up in Paris or 
anywhere else that suits my humour, next morning. So I come 
hack as fresh as a daisy, and preserve as ruddy a face as though 
I never leant over a sheet of paper. When I retire from a liter- 
ary life I think of setting up as a Channel pilot. 

Pray give my love to Mrs. Cerjat, and tell her that I should 
like to go up the Great St. Bernard again, and shall be glad to 
know if she is open to another ascent. Old days in Switzer- 
land are ever fresh to me, and sometimes I walk with you 
•gain, after dark, outside the hotel at Martigny, wlfile Lady 
Mary Taylour (was n't it ?) sang within very prettily. Lord, 
how the time goes I How many years ago ! 

Affectionately yours. 



Gad's Hill, Wednesdmr, 30th Korember, 1864. 

My dear Wills, — I found the beautiful and perfect 
brougham awaiting me in triumph at the station when I came 
down yesterday afternoon. Greorgina and Marsh were both 
highly mortified that it had fallen dark, and the beauties of the 
carriage were obscured. But of course I had it out in the yard 
the first thing this morning, and got in and out at both the 
doors, and let down and pulled up the windows, and checked an 
imaginary coachman, and leaned back in a state of placid con- 

It is the lightest and prettiest and best carriage of the class 
ever made. But you know that I value it for higher reasons 
than these. It will always be dear to me — far dearer than 
anything on wheels could ever be for its own sake — as a proof 
of your ever generous friendship and appreciation, and a memo- 
rial of a happy intercourse and a perfect confidence that have 
never had a break, and that surely never can have any break 
now (after all these years) but one. Ever your faithfuL 


Gad's Hill Place, Higham by Rochf.ster, Kkht, 
Saturday, December 31, 1864. 

My dear Procter, — I have reserved my acknowledgment 
of your delightful note (the youngest note I have had in all 
this year) until to-day, in order that I might send, most heartily 
and affectionately, all seasonable good wishes to you and to Mrs. 
Procter, and to those who are nearest and dearest to you. Take 
them from an old friend who loves you. 

Mamie returns the tender compliments, and Georgina does 
what the Americans call *' indorse them/' " Mrs. Lirriper " is 
proud to be so remembered, and says over and over again " that 
it 's worth twenty times the trouble she has taken with the 
narrative, since Barry Cornwall, Esquire, is pleased to like if 

I got rid of a touch of neuralgia in France (as I always do 
there), but I found no old friends in my voyages of discovery 
on that side, such as I have left on this. 

My dear Procter, ever your affectionate. 



6ad*8 Hill Place, Higham bt Rochesteb, Kent, 

Tuesday, January 17, 1865. 

My dear Kent, — I meant to have written instantly on 
the appearance of your paper in its beautiful freshness, to con- 
gittnlate you on its handsome appearance, and to send you my 
beaitiest good wishes for its thriving and prosperous career. 
Through a mistake of the postman's, that remarkable letter has 
l)een tessellated into the Infernal Pavement instead of being 
delivered in the Strand. 

We have been looking and waiting for your being well enough 
to propose yourself for a mouthful of fresh air. Are you well 
ouNigh to come on Sunday ? We shall be coming down from 
Charing Cross on Sunday morning, and I shall be going up again 
it nine on Monday morning. 

It amuses me to find that you don't see your way with a cer- 
tain ''Mutual Friend" of ours. I have a horrible suspicion 
that you may begin to be fearfully knowing at somewhere about 
No. 12 or 13. But you shan't if I can help it. 

Your note delighted me because it dwelt upon the places in 
the number that / dwell on. Not that that is anything new in 
your case, but it is always new to me in the pleasure I derive 
from it, which is truly inexpressible. Ever cordially yours. 


Gad's Hill Place, Higham by Rochester, Kent, 
Wednesday, February 15, 1865. 

My dear Mrs. Procter, — Of course I will do it, and of 
course I will do it for the love of you and Procter. You can 
give me my brief, and we can speak about its details. Once 
again, of course I will do it, and with all my heart. 

I have registered a vow (in which there is not the least 
merit, for I could n't help it) that when I am, as I am now, 
very hard at work upon a book, I never will dine out more than 
one day in a week. Why did n't you ask me for the Wednes- 
day before I stood engaged to Lady Molesworth for the Tues- 
day ? 

It is 80 delightful to me to sit by your side anywhere and be 


brightened up, that I lay a handsome sacrifice upon the altar of 
" Our Mutual Friend " in writing this note very mucii againsl 
my will. liut for as many years as can be made consistent with 
my present juvenility, I always have given ray work the first 
place in my life, and what can I do now at 35 ! — ot at least at 
the two figures, never mind their order. 

I send my love to Procter, hoping you may appropriate a lit- 
tle of it by the way. Affectionately yoon. 


Office of "All the Teak Rmnro," 
Wedinj«d».v, March 1, 1S65. 

My dearest Macreadt. — I have been laid up here with a 
frost-bitten foot {from hard walking in the snow), or you would 
have heard from mo sooner. 

My reply to I'rofeesor Agassiz is short, but conclusive. Daily 
seeing improper uses made of confidential letters in the addnffi- 
ing of them to a public audience that have no business with 
litde not long ago a great fire in my field at {Jad's 


ing — a very slight penalty, as I detest going out to dinner 
(which killed the original old Parr by the bye). 

I am working like a dragon at my book, and am a terror to 
the household, likewise to all the organs and brass bands in 
this quarter. Gad's Hill is being gorgeously painted, and we 
tre here until the 1st of June. I wish I might hope you 
Yoold be there any time this summer ; I really have made the 
place comfortable and pretty by this time. 

It is delightful to us to hear such good news of Butty. She 
nade so deep an impression on Fechter that he always asks me 
vhit Ceylon has done for her, and always beams when I tell 
liim how thoroughly well it has made her. As to youy you are 
the youngest man (worth mentioning as a thorough man) that I 
koow. Oh, let me be as young when I am as — did you think 
1 was going to write " old " ? No, sir — withdraw from the 
wear and tear of busy life is my expression. 

Poole still holds out at Kentish Town, and says he is dying 
of aoUtude. His memory is astoundingly good. I see him 
about once in two or three months, and in the mean time he 
makes notes of questions to ask me when I come. Having 
Men in arrear of the time, these generally refer to imknown 
words he has encountered in the newspapers. His three last 
(he always reads them with tremendous diiiiculty through an 
enormous magnifying-glass) were as follows : — 

1. What 's croquet ? 

2. What 's an Albert chain ? 

3. Let me know the state of mind of the Queen. 

When I had delivered a neat exposition on these heads, he 
turned back to his memoranda, and came to something that the 
utmost power of the enormous magnifying-glass could n't render 
legible. After a quarter of an hour or so, he said, " Oh, yes, I 
know," and then rose and clasped his hands above his head, 
and said, " Thank God ! I am not a dram-drinker." 

Do think of coming to Gad's in the summer ; and do give 
my love to Mrs. Macready, and tell her I know she can make 
jou come if she will. Mary and Georgy send best and dearest 
loves to her, to you, and to Katie, and to baby. Johnny we 
suppose to be climbing the tree of knowledge elsewhere. 

My dearest Macready, ever yours most affectionately. 




Gad** Hiu» MoiidAj, JoM U^ IM. 

Mt dearest Macready, — 

[5o /or m his awm writmg,} 

Many thanks for your kind words of lemembiBnoe.^ Thk ii 
not all in my own hand, because I am too much aliAVAn to wiifts 
many notes. Not by the beating and dragging of the etrrag0 
in which I was, — it did not go oyer, but was caught oa the 
turn, among the ruins of the bridge, — but by the work alter^ 
wards to get out the dying and dead, which was terrible. 

[The rtM «• kit own wriiimg.} 

Ever your affectioDate ftieiid. 
P. 8. — My love to Mrs. Macready. 


Gad's Hill Placb, Hioham bt Rochsstsb, Kxst, 

Tuesday, June 13, 1865. 

My DEAR MiTTON, — I should have written to you yeater^ 
day or the day before, if I had been quite up to writing. 

I was in the only carriage that did not go over into the 
stream. It was caught upon the turn by some of the ruin of 
the bridge, and hung suspended and balanced in an apparently 
impossible manner. Two ladies were my fellow-passengers, an 
old one and a young one. This is exactly what passed. You 
may judge from it the precise length of the suspense : Suddenly 
we were off the rail, and beating the ground as the car of a half- 
emptied balloon might. The old lady cried out, " My Grod ! " 
and the young one screamed. I caught hold of them both (the 
old lady sat opposite and the young one on my left), and said, 
** We can't help ourselves, but we can be quiet and composed. 
Pray don't cry out.'^ The old lady immediately answered, 
" Thank you. Rely upon me. Upon my soul I will be 
quiet" We were then all tilted down together in a comer of 
the carriage, and stopped. I said to them thereupon, " You 
may be sure nothing worse can happen. Our danger must be 
over. Will you remain here without stirring, while I get out 

1 ThiR was a circular note which he sent in answer to innumerable letters of 
inquiry, after the accident. 


of tUe window ? " Tbey both answered quite collectedly, 
"Yes," and I got out witbout the least iiotiou what had hap- 
}N.'Ded. Fortunately I got out with great ututioii and stood 
upon the Bt«p. Looking down I saw the bridge gone, and no- 
thing below me but the line of rail. Some people in tbe two 
other compartments were madly trying to plunge out at win- 
dow, and had no idea that there waa an open swampy field 
fifteen feet down below them, and nothing else ! The two 
guards {one with hia (ace cut) were running up and down on 
the down side of the bridge (which wag not torn up) quite 
wildly. I called out to them : " Look at me. Do stop an instant 
and look at me, and t«U me whether you don't know me." One 
of them answered, "We know you very well, Mr. Dickena," 
" Then," I said, " my good fellow, for God's sake give me your 
key, and send one of those labourers here, and I '11 empty thia 
auriage," Wo did it quite safely, by nicana of a plank or two, 
itid when it waa done I aaw all the rest of the train, except tbe 
two baggage vans, down in the stream. 1 got into the carriage 
again for my brandy flask, took off my travelling-bat for a 
bisin, climbed down the brickwork, and tilled ray hat with 

Suddenly I came upon a staggering man covered with hlood 
(I think he muet have been flung clean out of hia carriage), 
with such a frightful cut across the skull that I couldn't bear 
to look at him. I poured some water over his face and gave 
him some to drink, then gave bim some brandy, and laid him 
down on the grass, and he said, " I am gone," and died att«r- 
warda. Then I stumbled over a lady lying on her back against 
a little pollard-tree, with the hlood streaming over her face 
(which was lead colour) in a number of distinct little streams 
from the head. I asked ber if she could swallow a little 
brandy and she just nodded, and I gave her some and left her 
for somebody else. The next time I pafisod her she was dead. 
Then a man, e^carained at the inquest yesterday (who evidently 
bod not the leaat remembrance of what really passed), came 
nuining up to me and implored me to help him find his wife, 
who was afterwards found dead. I^o imagination can conceive 
tbe ruin of the carriages, or the extraordinary we"\^^ft \Hviwt 
wbidi the fieopie were lying, or the complicaUona uvVti -wVv^ 
^wuted v/i among iron and wood, and mud. auAiKfl' 
t to be examined nt the inquesl, Knd, "V J 


want to write about it. I could do no good either way, and I 
could only seem to speak about myself , which, of course, I wooM 
rather not do. I am keeping very quiet here. I have a — I 
don't know what to call it — constitutional (I suppose) prefience 
of mind, and was not in the least fluttered at the time. 1 iBr 
atantly remembered that I had the MS. of a number with ney 
and clambered back into the carriage for it. But in writinig 
these scanty words of recollection I feel the shake and 
obliged to i^p. Ever faithfully. 


Gad's Hill, SondAjr, Jane 18, IM. 

My dear Mbs. Hulkes, — I return the '^ Examiner " with 
many thanks. The account is true, except that I had brandy* 
By an extraordinary chance I had a bottle and a half with me. 
I slung the half-bottle round my neck, and carried my hat foU 
of water in my hands. But I can understand the describer 
(whoever he is) making the mistake in perfect good faith, an4 
supposing that I called for brandy, when I really called to the 
others who were helping: "I have brandy here." The Mr. 
Dickenson mentioned had changed places with a Frenchman, 
who did not like the window down, a few minutes before the 
accident. The Frenchman was killed, and a labourer and I got 
Mr. Dickenson out of a most extraordinary heap of dark ruins, 
in which he was jammed upside down. He was bleeding at the 
eyes, ears, nose, and mouth ; but he did n^t seem to know that 
ajfterwards, and of course I did nH tell him. In the moment 
of going over the viaduct the whole of his pockets were shaken 
empty ! He had no watch, no chain, no money, no pocket- 
book, no handkerchief, when we got him out. He had been 
choking a quarter of an hour when I heard him groaning. If I 
had not had the brandy to give him at the moment, I think he 
would have been done for. As it was, I brought him up to 
London in the carriage with me, and could n't make him believe 
he was hurt. He was the first person whom the brandy saved. 
As 1 ran back to the carriage for the whole full bottle, I saw 
the first two people I had helped lying dead. A bit of shade 
from the hot sun, into which we gut the unhurt ladies, soon 
had as many dead in it as living. Faithfully yours always. 



Office of ** All thb Year Round," 
Friday, July 7, 1865. 

Mt dear Fitzgerald, — I shall be delighted to see you at 
6ad's Hill on Sunday, and I hope you will bring a bag with 
joa and will not think of returning to London at night. 

We are a small party just now, for my daughter Mary has 
been decoyed to Andover for the election week, in the Conser- 
Tative interest ; think of my feelings as a Radical parent ! 
The wrong-headed member and his wife are the friends with 
whom she hunts, and she helps to receive (and (deceive) the 
TOters, which is very awful ! 

Bat in the week after next we shall be in great croquet force. 
I shall hope to persuade you to come back to us then for a few 
days, and we will try to make you some amends for a dull Sun- 
ivf. Turn it over in your mind and try to manage it. 

Sincerely yours ever. 


. Oad'8 Hill, Wednesday, July 12, 1866. 

My dear Owen, — Studying the gorilla last night for the 
twentieth time, it suddenly came into my head that I had never 
thanked you for that admirable treatise. This is to bear witr 
ness to my blushes and repentance. If you knew how much 
interest it has awakened in me, and how often it has set me a 
thinking, you would consider me a more thankless beast than 
any gorilla that ever lived. But happily you do not know, and 
I am not going to tell you. 

Believe me, ever faithfully yours. 


Gad's Hill Place, Hioham by Rochester, Kent, 

Thursday, July 20, 1865. 

My dear Bulwer Lytton, — I am truly sorry to reply to 
your kind and welcome note that we cannot come to Knebworth 
on a visit at this time : firstly, because I am tied by the leg to 
my book. Secondly, because my married daughter and her bus- 


band are with us. Thirdly^ because my two boys are at bome 
for their holidays. 

But if you would come out of that murky electioneeiing 
atmosphere and come to us, you don't know how delighted W0 
should be. You should have your own way as completely ■• 
though you were at home. You should have a cheery room, 
and you should have a Swiss ch^et all to yourself to writa 
in. Smoking regarded as a personal favour to the famUy. 
Greorgina is so insupportably vain on account of being a favour- 
ite of yours, that you might find her a drawback ; but nothing 
else would turn out in that way, I hope. j 

WonH you manage it ? Do think of it. If, for instance, 
you would come back with us on that Guild Saturday. I have , 
turned the house upside down and inside out since you wen 
here, and have carved new rooms out of places then non-existent 
Pray do think of it, and do manage it. I should be heartily 

I hope you will find the purpose and the plot of my book 
very plain when you see it as a whole piece. I am looking for- 
ward to sending you the proofs complete about the end of next 
month. It is all sketched out and I am working hard on it^ 
giving it all the pains possible to be bestowed on a labour 
of love. Your critical opinion two months in advance of the 
public will be invaluable to me. For you know what store I 
set by it, and how I think over a hint from you. 

I notice the latest piece of poisoning ingenuity in Pritchard's 
case. When he had made his medical student boarders sick, by 
poisoning the family food, he then quietly walked out, took an 
emetic, and made himself sick. This with a view to ask them, 
in examination on a possible trial, whether he did not present 
symptoms at the time like the rest, — a question naturally 
asked for him and answered in the affirmative. From which I 
get at the fact. 

If your constituency don't bring you in they deserve to lose 
you, and may the gods continue to confound them ! I shudder 
at the thought of such public life as political life. Would there 
not seem to be something horribly rotten in the system of it, 
when one stands amazed how any man — not forced into it by 
position, as you are — can be^r to live it ? 
. But the private life here is my point, and again I urge upon 
you. Do think of it, and Do come. 


banil arc with ub. Thirdly, because my two boys are at home 
for their holidays. 

But if you would come out of that murky electioneering 
atmosphere and come to us, you don't know how delighted we 
should be. You should have your own way as completely u 
tliough you were at home. You should have a cheery room, 
and you should have a Swiss chalet all to yourself to write 
in. Smok'mij re.ijarded as a personal favour to the family. 
Georgina is eo insupportahly vain on account of being B favour- 
ite of yours, that you might find /iir a drawback ; but nothing 
else would turn out in that way, I hope. 

WonH you manage it ? Do think of it. If, for instance, 
you would come back with ua on that Guild Saturday. I bavB 
turned the house upside down and inside out since you were 
here, and have carved new rooms out of places theit non-existent 
Pray do think of it, and do manage it. I should be hearUly 

1 hope you will find the purpose and the plot of my hook 
very plain when you see it as a whole piece. I am looking fo^ 
ward to sending you the proofs complete about the end of n 


I want to tell you how I have been impressed by the " Boat- 
man/' It haunts me as only a beautiful and profound thing 
caiL The lines are always running in my head, as the river 
nms with me. 

Ever affectionately. 


Gad's Hill Placb, Hioham by Rochester, Kent, 

Wednesdmy, August 16, 1866. 

Hy dear Lord Russell, — Mr. Dallas, who is a candidate 

for the Scotch professional chair left vacant by Aytoun's death, 

las asked me if I would object to introduce to you the first 

volume of a book he has in the press with my publishers, on 

"The Gay Science of Art and Criticism.'' I have replied I 

would not object, as I have read as many of the sheets as 

I could get, with extreme pleasure, and as I know you will find 

it a very winning and brilliant piece of writing. Therefore he 

will send the proofs of the volume to you as soon as he can get 

them from the printer (at about the end of this week I take 

it), and if you read them you will not be hard upon me for 

bearing the responsibility of his doing so, I feel assured. 

I suppose Mr. Dallas to have some impression that his pleas- 
ing you with his book might advance his Scottish suit. But all 
I know is, that he is a gentleman of great attainments and 
erudition, much distinguished as the writer of the best critical 
literary pieces in " The Times," and thoroughly versed in the 
subjects which Professor Aytoun represented officially. 

I beg to send my regard to Lady Russell and all the house, 
and am ever, my dear Loi:d Russell, 

Your faithful and obliged. 

P. S. — I am happy to report that my sailor-boy's captain, 
relinquishing his ship on sick-leave, departs from the mere form 
of certificate given to all the rest, and adds that his obedience 
to orders is remarkable, and that he is a highly intelligent and 
promising young officer. 


Your hint that yon were getting on with your story and 
liked it was more than golden intelligence to me in foreign 
parts. The intensity of the heat, hoth in Paris and the prov- 
inces^ was such that I found nothing else so refreshing in the 
course of my rambles. 

With many more thanks for the dog than my sheet of paper 
would holdy 

Believe me, ever very faithfully yours. 


Gad's Hill Placb, Hioham by Rochester, Kbnt, 

September 26, 1865. 

My dear Mbs. Procter, — I have written the little intro- 
duction, and have sent it to my printer, in order that you may 
read it without trouble. But if you would like to keep the few 
pages of MS., of course they are yours. 

It is brief, and I have aimed at perfect simplicity, and an 
avoidance of all that your beloved Adelaide would have wished 
avoided. Do not expect too much from it. If there should be 
anything wrong in fact, or anything that you would like changed 
for any reason, of course you will tell me so, and of course you 
will not deem it possible that you can trouble me by making 
any such request most freely. 

You will probably receive the proof either on Friday or Satur- 
day. Don't write to me until you have read it. In the mean 
time I send you back the two books, with the two letters in the 
bound one. 

With love to Procter, 

Ever your affectionate friend. 


H6tel du Helper, Paris, 
Wednesday, September 30, 1865. 

My dear Edmund, — I leave here to-morrow and purpose 
being at the office on Saturday night ; all next week I shall be 
there, oflF and on — " off" meaning Gad's Hill ; the office will 
be my last address. The heat has been excessive on this side of 
the Channel, and I got a slight sunstroke last Thursday, and 
obliged to be doctored and put to bed for a day ; but, thank 


God, I nm all right again. The mau who sella the tisane on 
the Boulevards can't keep the fliea out of hie giaaseB, and as bs 
wears them on his red velvet batidit, the flies work tbeiaselvM 
into the end.-^ of the tumblers, trying to get through and tickle 
the man. If fiy-!ife were long enough, I think they would at 
last. Three paving- blouses camii to work at the comer of thia 
street last Monday, pulled up a bit of road, sat down to look at 
it. and fell axleep. On Tuesday one of the blouses spat on his 
hands and seemed to be going to begin, but did n't; the other 
two have shoirn no sign of life whatever. This morning the 
industrious one &t» a loaf. You may rely upon thia aa the 
latest news from the French capital. 

Faithfully ever. 


Office op "All tiie Tk»r Roosn," 
No. SB, WBLUHcrns Stheet, Straxd. W. C, 
.S»lUHl»y, asih of October, 1S65. 

: Chorlet, — I find your letter here only to-d»y. 


Inclosed h the MS. of the introduction. The print(?Ts hare 
cut it across and mended it again, because I alwaya expect them 
to be quick, and so they distribute my ■' copy " among eeveral 
bunds, und apparently not very clean ones in this instance. 

Odd as Ihe poor butcher's feeling appears, I think I can un- 
derstand it. Much as he would nut have liked his boy's grave 
to be u'ithout a tombstone, hod he died ashore and had a grave, 
M he can't bear him to drift to the depths of the ocean unre- 

My love to Procter, 

Ever affectionately you re. 



IS, Welmmcitom St&ert, MoQ'liy, NovHDiberfl, ISSS. 

Mv DBAB Kent, — No, I vnn't write in this book, because 
I have sent another to the binder's for you. 

1 have been unwell with a relaxed throat, or I should have 
written to you sooner to thank you tor your dedication, to 
asaute you that it heartily, most heartily, gratifies me, as the 
tincere tribute of a true and generous heart, and to tell you that 
I have been charmed witli your book itself. I am proud of 
hiving given a name to anything so picturesque, so sympathetic 
nod spirited. 

I ho|ic and believe the " Doctor " is nothing but a go«I 'un. 
He has perfectly ostonished Forster, who writes : " Neither 
good, gooder, nor goodost, but super- excel lent ; all through 
there is such a relish of you at your best, as I could not havo 
beli^verl in. after a long story." 

^all be charmed to see you to-night. 

Ever affectionately. 


Otp'8 Bill Plaob, Hiohah nv RornGsTaa, Kkht, 
NoveiiiUr 13,1885. 

Cerjat, — Having achieved my book and ray 
* '• tf hri'rtniOB numlier, and having shaken myself aftet tw(j -^skt^ 
work, I send you my annual greeting. How am ^OM*! Ka'On- 
^ Ihiotr you will reply; but as my poor IiAWt (.■aVo ■«« 
mtic, too, and the joliioBt of men) used p\\\loBo\iUi 


say, " one must have something wrong, I suppose, and I like to 
know what it ia." 

In Eugland we are groaning under the brigandage t>f Ihe 
butcher, which ia being carried to that height that I think I 
foresee resistance oa the part of the middle class, and some com- 
bination in perspective for abolishing the middle man, whenso- 
ever he turns up (which is everywhere) between prodiicer and 
consumer. The cattle plague is the butcher's stalking-horse, 
and it is unquestionably worse than it was ; but seeing that the 
great majority of creatures lost or destroyed have been coivs, 
and likewise that the rise in butchers' meat bearR no reasonable 
proportion to the market prices of the beastB, one comes to tlis 
conclusion that the public is done. The commission has ended 
very weakly and inefi'ectuaHy, as such things in England rather 
frequently do; and everybody writes to "The Times," md 
nolxrdy does anything else. 

If tlie Americans don't embroil us in a war before long it 
will not be their fault. What with their swagger and bomlast, 
what with their claims for indemnification, what with Ireland 
and Fenianism, and what with Canada, I have strong apprehen 


wiUiout suBpioioD, until wliole reginieuts atose aud killed their 
officers ? A week ago, red tape, half bouncing aud half pnoh- 
poohiiig what it bouoceii at, would have 6cout«d the idea of a 
Dublin jail tiot being able to hold a political prisoner. But for 
the blacks ia Jamaica being over-impatient and before their 
time, the whites might have been exterminuted, witliout a pre- 
Tioue bint or suspicion that there was anything amiss. Luinaen 
allrr, and Britons never, never, never ! — 

Meantime, if youi honour were in London, jou would seo a 
great embankment rising bigb aud dry out of the Tbamed on 
the Middlesex shore, from WeBtminster Bridge to Blackfriars. 
A really fine work and really getting on. Moreover, a great 
system of drainage. Another re;klly line work, and likewise 
really getting on. Lastly, a muddle of railways in all direo- 
tioiu possible and impossible, with uu general public scheme, 
no general public auiMtvision, enormous waste of money, no 
GxaUe responaibility, no accountability but under Lord Camp- 
bdl's Act. I think of that accident in which I was preserved. 
Bafore the most furious and notable train in the four-aud-twenty 
hours^ the heail of a gang of worktnen takes up the rails. Tbat 
tnin changes its time every day as the tide changes, and that 
Wl workman is not provided by the railway company with any 
(Jock or wateh 1 Lord Shaftesbury wrote to tne to ask me 
"hat I thought of an obligation on railway companies to put 
Itnmg walls to all bridges and viaducts. I told him, of course, 
that the force of such a shock woidd carry away anything that 
*"? wmpany could set up, and I added ; " Ask the minister 
that Ar thinks about the votes of tlio railway internet in the 
Hfiiwe of Commons, and about bis being afraid to lay a linger 
Ml it with an eye to bis majority." 

I sentn to be grumbling, but I am in the best of humours, 
all gueij well with me and mine, thank God ! 

I««t uight my gardener came upon a man in the garden and 
"t*!. Tho man returned the compliment by kicking bim ia 
^u' groin and cauniing him great pain. I set off, with a great 
"'Witr.bloL.d hound I have, in pursuit. Could n't find the evil- 
''"W. but had tho greatest difficulty in preventing the dog from 
'Wring two jyilicemen down. They wore coming iQwatvia m* 
^ift profoEaiunal laystery, and ha was in tho ft« ow \v\% vja-j 'u> 


Mv daughter M*ry tad ber aunt Georgiiia seed kindest 
ngud and rdDembrance. Kalej and her huaband are going to 
try Loodon this winter, bat I i«lber doubt (few they are both 
delkate) their being able to weather it out. It has been blow- 
ing here tremendouslr for a fortoigbt, bat lo-day is like a 
^ring day. and plenty of roses ore growing over the labourers' < 
eotlages. The Great Eastern lies at ber moorings beyond the 
window where I write these words; looks very dull and un- 
promising. A dark column of emoke from Chatham Dockyard, 
where the iron shipbuilding ie in progress, has a greater aignifi- 
cance in it, I fancy. 


Mt dearest Mamie, — As you want to know my riewa o! 
ttie Sphinx, here they are. But I have only seen it onee ; and 
it is BO extraordinarily well done, that it ought to be obwrt«d 
closely several times. 

loss MABY BOYLE 223 

the audience. The moment he has assisted the hidden 
sufficiently^ he closes the trap, and the conjurer then 
liatelj removes the little draped table, and also the 
ipeiy of the larger table ; when he places the box on the 
imed table with the slide on for the head to come into it, 
stands with his back to the audience and his face to the box, 
and masks the box considerably to facilitate the insertion of the 
kesd. As soon as he knows the head to be in its place, he un- 
inws the slide. When the verses have been spoken and the 
tnek is done, he loses no time in replacing the slide. The cur- 
tun is then immediately dropped, because the man cannot 
otherwise be got out of the table, and has no doubt had quite 
enough of it With kindest regards to all at Penton, 

Ever your most affectionate. 


OrncB OP " All the Year Bound/* 
Saturday, January 6, 1866. 

Mt deab Mabt, — Feeling pretty certain that I shall never 
answer your letter unless I answer it at once (I got it this 
morning), here goes ! 

I did not dramatise " The Master of Ravenswood," though I 
did a good deal towards and about the piece, having an earnest 
desire to put Scott, for once, upon the stage in his own gallant 
manner. It is an enormous success, and increases in attraction 
nightly. I have never seen the people in all parts of the 
house so leaning forward, in lines sloping towards the stage, 
earnestly and intently attractive, as while the story gradually 
mifolds itself. But the astonishing circumstance of all is, that 
Miss Leclercq (never thought of for Lucy till all other Lucies 
had failed) is marvellously good, highly pathetic, and almost 
unrecognisable in person ! What note it touches in her, always 
dumb until now, I do not pretend to say, but there is no one 
on the stage who can play the contract scene better, or more 
simply and naturally, and I find it impossible to see it without 
crying I Almost every one plays well, the whole is exceedingly 
picturesque, and there is scarcely a movement throughout, or a 
look, that is not indicated by Scott. So you get a life romance 
with beautiful illustrations, and I do not expect ever again to 
see a book take up its bed and walk in like manner. 


1 tun clkarmed t« leam that you have had a freeze out of mj 
ghost story. It rather did give me a shiver up the back in the 
writing. " Dt. Harigold '' has just now accomplislied hU two 
hundred thous;md. My only other news about myself ia thai 
I am doubtful ivhether to read or not in LoudoQ this seasoD. 
If I decide to do it at all, I ahatl probably do it ou a k^ 

Many happy years to you, my dear Mary. So prays 

Your evec afl'ectionale 


Gad's Hill, ThuraiUy, Jtaatry 18, 1866. 
My deab Kknt, — I cannot tell you how grieved we all are 
here to know that you are sulTering again. Your patient toD«, 
however, and the hopefulneea and forbearance of Ferguson's 
course, gives us some reassurance. Apropos of which latter 
referent* I dined with Ferguson at the Lord Mayor's last Tues- 
day, and had a grimly distracted impulse upon me to defv 
the toast-master and rush into a speech about hii 


stands (like the house itself) very high, and that testimonials 
can be produced from credible persons wlio have recovered 
health and spirits liere swiftly. Try us, only try us, and we 
are content to stake the reputation of the establishment on the 
result. Ever allectiunately yours. 


Office of "All the Tear Rouito," 
Friday, 26th January, 1866. 

My dear Forster, — I most heartily hope that your dole- 
ful apprehensions will prove unfounded. These changes from 
muggy weather to slight sharp frost, and hack again, touch 
weak places, as I find hy my own foot ; but the touch goes by. 
May it prove so with you I 

Yesterday Captain , Captain , and Captain 

dined at Gad's. They are, all three, naval officers of the 

highest reputation. is supposed to be the best sailor in 

our service. I said I had been remarking at home, apropos 
of the London, that I knew of no shipwreck of a large strong 
Bhip (not carrying weight of guns) in the open sea, and that 
I could find none such in the shipwreck books. They all 
Agreed that the unfortunate Captain Martin must have been 
^uiaoqoainted with the truth as to what can and what cannot 
k done with a steamship having rigging and canvas ; and that 
1^0 sailor would dream of turning a ship's stem to such a gale 

^ unless his vessel could run faster than the sea, said 

(and the other two confirmed) that the London was the better 
for everything that she lost aloft in such a gale, and that with 
Iwf head kept to the wind by means of a storm topsail — 
which is hoisted from the deck and requires no man to be sent 
*loft, and can be set under the worst circumstances — the dis- 
••^ could not have occurred. If he had no such sail, he could 
^▼e improvised it, even of hammocks and the like. They said 
ftat under a Board of Inquiry into the wreck, any efficient 
^teesB must of necessity state this as the fact, and could not 
P^bly avoid the conclusion that the seamanship was utterly 
^ ; and as to the force of the wind, for which I «w^g&<«^M^ 
•'lowance, they all had been in West Indian \vwmcaa\«^ wAVdl 
^fiiooBs, and had put the heads of tbeii aVApA to >i)[i^ V\sA 
^«r the moat adverse ciivumstances. 


1 thought yoii might be interested in this, as you have no 
douht been intereBt«d id the Cflse. They had a great respect 
for the unfortunate Captain's character, and for his behaviour 
when the case was hopeless, but they had not the faintest doubt 
that he lost the ship and those two hundred and odd lives. 
Ever affectionately. 


Gad's Hill, Fridny, Fcbninrj- 2, 1B6S. 

My dear Fitzgerald, — I ought to have written to jou 
days and days ago, to thank you for your charming book on 
Charles Lamb, to tell you with what interest and pleasure I 
read it as soon as it came here, and to add that I was honestly 
affected (tar more so than your modesty will readily believe) 
by your intiinate knowledge of those touches of mine concern- 
ing childhood. 

Let me tell yoH now that I have not in the least cooled, after 
all, either as to the graceful sympathetic book, or as to the part 
It has become a matter of 

^^^ «E3. BHOOKFTELD 227 

linnigh the syatem. If it should not seem to succeed on a 
easonable triii), 1 will then propose a consultation with some 
me else. Of couree I am not so foolish as to suppose that all 
ny work can have been achieved without some penalty, and I 
lave noticed for eome time a decided change in my buoymM^ 
,nd hopefulness — in other words, in my usual " tone." 

I shall wait to see Beard again on Monday, and shall most 
robably come down that day. If I should not, I will tele- 
li ^ter seeing htm. Best love to Mamie. 



OrFiCBOP "All the Tear Rouku," 
Tui>9da;, Februvr 2U, lStl6. 

Mr DKAK MjiS. Brookftkld, — Having gone through your 
B4S, (which I should have done sooner, but that I have not 
been very well), I write these few following words about it. 
KiTBtly, with a limited reference to its luiauitability to these 
pages. Secondly, with a more enlarged reference to the merits 
of the story itself. 

If you will take any part of it and cut it up fin fancy) into 
tka small portions into which it would have to be divided here 
fof only a month's supply, you will (I think) at once discover 
t)ie impossibility of publishing it in weekly parts. The scliemo 
of the chapters, the manner of introilucing the people, the prog- 
fMs of the interest, the places in which the jirincipal places 
Wl, lire all hopelessly against it. It would seem as though the 
"torj were never coming, and hardly ever moving. There 
tnust be a special design to overcome that specially trying mode 
^ publication, and I cannot better express the difficulty and 
luboiir of it than by naking you to turn over any two weekly 
numbers of " A Tale of Two Cities," or " Great E.tpectationa," 
M Bulwer'B story, or Wilkie Collins's, or Reade's, or " At the 
"*fi" nod notice how patiently and expressly the thing has to 
" planned for presentation in these fragments, and yet for 
•fterwanis fusing together as on uninterrupted whole. 

Of the story itself I honestly say that I think highly. The 
*jlii is particularly easy and agreeable, infinitely al»\« OTiVtwrj 
^tiog, and sometimes reminds me o( Mrs. 1twMib.\A. «.\. 

ITid cbAmcf^rs are remarkably weU observwV, «.i\*!l "ji\'C& 
"" e of delicacy and truthfulness. 1 o\»er)o ^\ii»^ 


ticolarly in the brother and sister, and in Mrs. Neyille. But H 
strikes me that you constantly hurry your narratiTe (and yei 
without getting on) by telling it, in a sort of impetuous breatA- 
less way, in your own person, when the people should tell ii 
and act it for themselves. My notion always is, that when I 
have made the people to play out the play, it is, as it were, 
their business to do it, and not mine. Then, unless you really 
have led up to a great situation like Basil's death, you are 
bound in art to make more of it. Such a scene should form 
a chapter of itself. Impressed upon the reader's memory, it 
would go far to make the fortime of the book. Suppose your- 
self telling that affecting incident in a letter to a friend. 
Would n't you describe how you went through the life and stir 
of the streets and roads to the sick-room ? Would n't you say 
what kind of room it was, what time of day it was, whether it 
was sunlight, starlight, or moonlight ? Would n't yon hsTS 
a strong impression on your mind of how you were reoeiTed, 
when you first met the look of the dying man, what strange 
contrasts were about you and struck you ? I don't want you, in 
a novel, to present yourself to tell such things, but I want the 
things to be there. You make no more of the situation than 
the index might, or a descriptive playbill might in giving a 
summary of the tragedy under representation. 

As a mere piece of mechanical workmanship, I think all your 
chapters should be shorter ; that is to say, that they should be 
subdivided. Also, when you change from narrative to dialogue, 
or vice versa, you should make the transition more carefully. 
Also, taking the pains to sit down and recall the principal land- 
marks in your story, you should then make them far more 
elaborate and conspicuous than the rest. Even with these 
changes I do not believe that the story would attract the atten- 
tion due to it, if it were published even in such monthly 
portions as the space of " Fraser " would admit of. Even so 
brightened, it would not, to the best of my judgment, express 
itself piecemeal. It seems to me to be so constituted as to 
require to be read " oflf the reel." As a book in two volumes 
I think it would have good claims to success, and good chances 
of obtaining success. But I suppose the polishing I have 
hinted at (not a meretricious adornment, but positively neces- 
sary to good work and good art) to have been first thoroughly 



me if you am help it. I can afford lo be 
iple, but I am not rich enough to put you in 
it loxury. 

Ever faithfully youra. 

k S. — The MS. ahall be delivereJ at your house to-morrow. 
Lnd your petitioner again pruys not to be, etc. 


^^B e, SournwicK Plack, IlTne Pari, 

^Kf DEAB Browning, — Wilt you dino here next Sunday 
J half-pafit six punctually, instead of with Forster? I am 
;oing to read thirty times in London and elsewhere ; and as I 
Lin coming out with " Dr. Marigold," I had written to ask 
Ponter to come on Sunday and hear me sketch him. For.iter 
layii (with his own boldness) that he is sure it would not bore 
jTcni to have that taste of hie quality after dinner. I should be 
delighted if this should prove true. But I give warning that 
in tbnt cuss I shall exact a promise from you to come to St. 
Jauiea'a Hall one evening in April or May, and hear " David 

Pld," my own particular favourite. 


Adelfhi, LlvEBFOot, Frid»j-, April 13, 1868. 
Mr DKARE8T GbokoV, — The reception at Man chesler last 
nlghL was quite a magnificent sight ; the whole of the immense 
iQ^ence standing up and cheering. I thought tlieni a little 
•low with "Marigold," but believe it was only the attention 
■tccKary in bo vast n place. They gave a splendid burst at 
lie end. And after " Nickleby " (which went to perfection), 
"^J Bet up such a call, that I was obliged to go in again. Tho 
"^orlimate piB-DiAn,a very steady fellow, got a fall otf a ladder 
*<i'l i|iniiDed his leg. Ha waa put to bed in a public opposite, 
*">! wm left there, [wor niun. 
Thia is the first very fine day we have >itt4. \ W-k* W*,e'(\ 
of it by crossing t^ Birkenhead anil g^Vtm^ w«o» «« 
water. It wria fresh and beantifuV. 


I send my best love to Mamie, and hope she is better. I 
am, of course, tired (tlie pult of " Marigold " upon one's energy, 
iu the Free Trade Hall, was great) ; but I stick to my tonic, 
and feel, all things considered, in very good tone. The room 
here (I mean the hall) being my special fa.Tourite and extraor- 
dinarily cosy, is almost a teat ! 

ADEU-ni, LiVEKPDOL. SaturdiT, April IJ, im. 

My dkakest Mamie, — The police reported officially that 
three thousand people were turned away from the hall last 
night. I doubt if they were so numerous aa that, but they 
carried iu the outer doora and pitched into Dolby with great 
vigour. I need not add that every corner of the plaM was 
crammed. They were a very fine audience, and took enthusiis- 
tically every point in " Copperfield " and the '' Trial." They 
made the reading a quarter of an hour longer than usual. One 
man advertised in the morning paper that he would give thirty 
shillings (double) for three stalls, but nobody would sell, and 

loss DICKENS 231 

?ent mj platfonn from being captured as it was last time ; but 
I don't feel at all sure that it will not be stormed at one of the 
two readings. Wills is to do the genteel to-night at the stalls, 
and Dolby is to stem the shilling tide if he can. The poor 
gas-man cannot come on, and we have got a new one here who 
is to go to Edinburgh with us. Of Edinburgh we know nothing, 
but as its first night has always been shady, I suppose it will 
stick to its antecedents. 

I like to hear about Harness and his freshness. The let for 
the next reading at St. James's is ^' going," they report, '< ad- 
mirably." Lady Eussell asked me to dinner to-morrow, and I 
hare written her a note to-day. The rest has certainly done 
i&e good. I slept thoroughly well last night, and feel fresh. 
What to-night's work, and every night's work this week, may 
do contrariwise, remains to be seen. 

I hope Harry's knee may be in the way of mending, from 
what you relate of it. 


Waterloo Hotel, Edinburgh, 
Wednesday, April 18, 1866. 

We had a tremendous house again last night at Glasgow, 
and turned away great numbers. Not only that, but they were 
a most brilliant and delicate audience, and took "Marigold" 
with a fine sense and quickness not to be surpassed. The shil- 
lings pitched into Dolby again, and one man writes a sensible 
letter in one of the papers this morning, showing to vij/ satisfac- 
tion (?) that they really had, through the local agent, some 
cause of complaint. Nevertheless, the shilling tickets are sold 
for to-morrow, and it seems to be out of the question to take 
any money at the doors, the call for all parts is so enormous. 
The thundering of applause last night was quite staggering, and 
my people checked off my reception by the minute hand of a 
watch, and stared at one another, thinking I should never begin. 
I keep quite well, have happily taken to sleeping these last 
three nights, and feel, all things considered, very little con- 
scious of fatigue. I cannot reconcile my town medicine with the 
hours and journeys of reading life, and have therefore given it 
up for the time. But for the moment, I think I am better 
without it. What we are doing here I have not yet heard. I 


write at half-past one, and we have been little more than an 
hour in the house. But I am quite prepared for the inevitable 
this first Edinburgh night. Endeavours have been made (from 
Glasgow yesterday) to telegispb the exact facta out of our local 
agent ; but hydraulic pressure would n't have squeezed a straight 
answer out of him. " Friday and Saturday doing very well, 
Wednesday not bo good." Thia was all electricity could dis- 

I am going to write a line this post to Katie, from whom I 
have a note. I hope Harry's leg will now step out in the man- 
ner of the famous cork leg in the song. 


EoiSBUBoa, ThuraiUr, April IS, IBM. 

The honse was more than twic« better tlian any first nigltt 
here previously. They were, as usual here, remarkably intelli- 
gent, and the reading went briiUantly. I have not sent up any 
newspapers, as they are generally so poorly written that joa 
may know befoi*eliand all the commonplaeea that they will 


Tvo files of policemen and a double staff everywhere did the 
wd, and nothing could be better-tempered or more orderly. Tre- 
BMDdoiu enthusiasm with the '^ Carol " and '^ Trial." I was 
deid beat af terwards, that reading being twenty minutes longer 
thaa usual ; but plucked up again, had some supper, slept well, 
and am quite right to-day. It is a bright day, and the express 
ride over from Glasgow was very pleasant. 

Everything is gone here for to-night. But it is difficult to 
describe what the readings have grown to be. The let at St. 
James's Hall is not only immense for next Tuesday, but so 
kige for the next reading afterwards, that Chappell writes: 
"IDiat will be the greatest house of the three." From Man- 
chester this morning they write : " Send us more tickets in- 
stantly, for we are sold out and don't know what to do with the 
' people." Last night the whole of my money under the agree- 
ment bad been taken. I notice that a great bank has broken 
at Liverpool, which may hurt us there, but when last heard of 
it was going as before. And the audience, though so enormous, 
do somehow express a personal affection, which makes them 
Tuy strange and moving to see. 

I bave a story to answer you and your aunt with. Before I 
left South wick Place for Liverpool, I received a letter from Glas- 
gow, saying, " Your little Emily has been woo'd and married 
and a' ! since you last saw her," and describing her house within 
a mile or two of the city, and asking me to stay there. I wrote 

the usual refusal, and supposed Mrs. to be some romantic 

girl whom I had joked with, perhaps at Allison's or where not. 

On the first night at Glasgow I received a bouquet from , 

and wore one of the flowers. This morning at the Glasgow 

station, appeared, and proved to be the identical Miss 

Enuly, of whose marriage Dolby had told me on our coming 
through Preston. She was attired in magnificent raiment, and 
presented the happy . 


Liverpool, Thursday, April 96, 1866. 

We noticed between London and Kugby (the first stoppage) 
something very odd in our carriage yesterday, not so much in 
its motion as in its sound. We examined it as well as we could 
out of both windows, but could make nothing of it. On our 


arrival at Bugby, it was found to be on fire. And as H wai ■ 
the middle of the train, the train had to be broken to get it of 
into a siding by itself and get another carriage on. With tiui 
slight exception vre came down all right. 

My voice is much better, I am glad to report, and I mesn to 
try Beard's remedy after dinner to-day. This is all my prea^ 


Down Hotel, Gliftox, Fridmj, Msj 11, IMS. 

I received your note before I left Birmingham this moning. 
It has been very heavy work getting up at half-past six each 
morning after a heavy night, and I am not at all well to-daj. 
We had a tremendous liall at Birmingham last night — two 
thousand one hundred people. I made a most ridiculous inis^ 
take. Had '' Nickleby " on my list to finish with, instead of 
" Trial." Bead " Nickleby '' with great go, and the people re- 
mained. Went back again at ten and explained the acddeni, 
and said if they liked, I would give them the '^ TriaL" Thej 
did like, and I had another half hour of it in that enormous 

This stoppage of Overend and Gumey in the City will play 
the with all public gaieties, and with all the arts. 

My cold is no better. John fell off a platform about ten feet 
high yesterday, and fainted. He looks all the colours of the 
rainbow to-day, but does not seem much hurt beyond being 
puffed up one hand, arm, and side. 


Gad's Hill Place, Hioham bt Rochester, Kkxt, 

Monday, June 18, 1866. 

My dear Lily, — I am sorry that I cannot come to read to 
you " The Boots at the Holly-Tree Tun," as you ask me to do ; 
but the truth is, that I am tired of reading at this present time, 
and have come into the country to rest and he^r the birds sing. 
There are a good many birds, I dare say, in Kensington Palace 
Gardens, and upon my wonl and honour they are much better 
worth listening to than I am. So let them sing to you as hard 
as ever they can, while their sweet voices last (they will be 
silent when the winter comes) ; and very likely after you and I 


Kve eaten our next Chrietmos pudding and mittce-piea, you anjll 
and Uncle Harry may all meet togellier at St, James's HfdljM 
fncle Harry to briny you there, to hear the " Boots ; " I t 
ic«ive you there, and resd the " Boots ; " and you (1 hope) t 
jplaud very much, and tell me that you like the " liootfl,''! 
0, God blesH you and me, and Uncle Harry, and the " Boota," 
id long life and happiness to ua all ! 

Your affectionate friend. 

P. S. — There 'a a flouriab ! 


Gad's Hiu^ Mondav, July 16, 1866. 

Mv BEAR Lyttos, — Firet, let me con^jratulate you on the 
ooour vhich Lord Derby has conferred upon the peerage, 
jid next, let me thank you heartily for your kind letter, " 

I BfU' very sorry to report tliat we are so encumbered wift 
Dgnj^meutA in the way of visitors coming here that we c; 
M our way to getting to Knebworth yet. 

Mary and Georgina send you their kind regard, and hojie tl 
he delight of coming to see you ia only deferred. 

Fitigerald will be so proud of your opinion of his " 
"ilWtflon," and will (I know) derive such great encoumgemenl 
Kui it that I have faithfully quoted it, word for word, aud » 
1 on to him in Ireland. He is a very clever fellow (you mu 
erDBmbor, perhaps, that I brought him to Knehworth o 
iaild liny), and has charming sisters and an excellent jmsitioi^ 
Ever affectionately yours. 


Gad's Hiu. PtACK. HiriiiAH bt KociiR^reit, Kent, 
Monday, August 13, 1866. 

JTy DRAB Procter, — I have read your biography of Charles 
'■Moll with inexpressible pleasure and interest. I do not think 
I powihle to tell a pathetic story with a more unaffected and 
"uly tcndtniess. And as to the force and vigour of the «V^\%, 
' I <lid not know you I should have made sure that tVwft "«a» 
'g error in the openinjj of yiiur introdutUoTi, wbe^ ^QaK> 
■atf '' occupied the place ol "iortj.^ 


Let me, my dear fcieud, most heartil; congtstal&t« yoa on 
your acbievenieot. It is not on ordinary triumph to do BUch 
juHtic« to the raeraory of such a man. And I venture to add, 
that the fresh sjjirit with which you have done it impresses m« 
as being perfectly wonderfuL 

Ever affectionately youts. 


Gad'9 Hiu, Honda;, Atigmt 3), 1866. 
My oeab Tennbut, — I have been very much intereatei 
by your OKtract, and am strongly inclined to believe that tli« 
founder of the Refuge for Poor Travellers meant the Jund of 
man to which it refers. Chaucer certainly meant the Far- 
donere to bo a humbug, living on the credulity of the people. 
After describing the sham reliques ho carried, he says : — 

Bui with tbeae rerikes wbawoe timl he fuuad 
A poure penouue dvrelliag up on loud 
Upon a (lay b« gjtl him more miinniB 
Thiin [h»t Ibe persotine got in nionlhci time, 
And thui, with fained dnlleri 


flrteni with their dress and station, and they would lose, as char- 
uiaSj before the audience. The dialogue seems to be exactly 
flat is wanted. Its simplicity (particularly in Mr. Boucicault's 
put) is often very eflfective ; and throughout there is an honest, 
itn^t-to-the-purpose ruggedness in it, like the real life and 
the real people. 

Secondly, as to the absence of the comic element. I really 
do not see how more of it could be got into the story, and I 
think Mr. Boucicault underrates the pleasant effect of his own 
pnt. The yeiy notion of a sailor, whose life is not among 
those little courts and streets, and whose business does not lie 
with the monotonous machinery, but with the four wild winds, 
■ a relief to me in reading the play. I am quite confident 
of its being an immense relief to the audience when they see the 
■ilor before them, with an entirely different bearing, action, 
diesB, complexion even, from the rest of the men. I would 
nake him the freshest and airiest sailor that ever was seen; 
ind through him I can distinctly see my way out of '* the Black 
Coimtry " into clearer air. (I speak as one of the audience, 
mind.) I should like something of this contrast to be ex- 
pressed in the dialogue between the sailor and Jew, in the 
Koond scene of the second act. Again, I feci Widdicomb's 
put (which is charming, and ought to make the whole house 
ciy) most agreeable and welcome, much better tlian any amount, 
in such a story, of mere comicality. 

It is unnecessary to say that the play is done with a master's 

hand. Its closeness and movement are quite surprising. Its 

construction is admirable. I have the strongest belief in its 

making a great success. But I must add this proviso : I never 

saw a play so dangerously depending in critical places on strict 

natural propriety in the manner and perfection in the shaping 

of the small parts. Those small parts cannot take the play 

up, but they can let it down. I would not leave a hair on 

the head of one of them to the chance of the first night, but 

I would see, to the minutest particular, the make-up of every 

one of them at a night rehearsal. 

Of course you are free to show this note to Mr. Boucicault, 
and I suppose you will do so ; let me throw out this suggestion 
to him and you. Might it not ease the way with the Lord 
Chamberlain's office, and still more with the audience, when 
there are Manchester champions in it, if instead of " Manches- 


Btet " yoD used a fictitious name ? When I did "Hard Times'' 
■ I called the scene Coketown. Everybody knew what was 
Bmeaiit, but every cotton-epiiining town eaid it was the other 
Icotton-.ipinnirg town. 

I Bliall be up on Saturdnj, and will come over about mtd- 
Idaj, unleaa you name any other time. 

Ever heartily. 


Mv riEAR TnoHNBuRT, — Mauy thanks for your letter. 

In reference to your Shakespeare queries, I am not so much 

lenamoured of the first and third subjects as I am of the Ariosto 

inquiry, which should be highly interesting. But if you hnve 

so got the mutter in your mind, as that its execution would be 

Bincomplete and unsatisfactory to you unless you write all tbf 

i, then by all means write the three, and I will most 

y take them. For some years I hnve had so much pleasure 


■ /" 

i-wrr^ -iniisliT Tonn. 


ridiculous caution, but the indolent part of the public (a iaige 
part !) on such pomtfi tumble into extraordinary mistakes. 

Faithfully yours always. 


UiD's I1II.I, TueBda;, Noveinlier A, I8fl6. 
Mt dear FlTZQEBALD, — It is always pleasant to me to 
hear from you, and I bop« you will believe tbat this is not a 
merti fashion of speech. 

Concerning the green covers, I find the leaves to be budding 
— on unquestionable newspaper authority ; but, upon my soul, 
I have no other knowledge of their being in embryo ! Really, 
I do not see a chance of my settling myself to such work until 
after I have accoraplished forty-two readings, to which I stand 

I hope to begin this aeries somewhere about the middle of 
January, in Dublin. Touching the details of the realisation 
of this hope, will you tell me in a line as soon as you can — 
It the exhifii'fhn. mom a gnod mom/or speaktnij in ? 

Your mentinu of the late Sultan tmiches me nearly. He was 
the finest dog I ever saw, and between him and me there was a 
perfect understanding. But, to adopt the popular phrase, it 
was »o very confidential that it " went no further." He would 
Bj at anybody else with the greatest enthusiasm for destruction. 
I nw him, muMled, pound into the heart of a regiment of the 
Ibe; and T have frequently seen him, rauzzleii, hold a great 
dog down with his cheat and feet. He has broken loose (niuz- 
lled) and come home covered with blooil, again and again. And 
jtt he never disobeyed me, unless he had first hiid hold of a. 

Yoo heard of his going to execution, evidently supposing the 
|»ocemtun to \m a party detached in pursuit of something to kill 
9r est ? It WHS very affecting. And also of his bolting a hlue- 
•ydd kitten, and making me acquainted with the circumstance 
t^ bie agonies of remorse (or indigestitm) ? 

T cnnnot find out that there is any one in Rochester (a sleepy 
old dly) who has anything to tell about Garrick, cT.tfe^V NiV^X. 
J»bot true. Hifl brother, the wine merchant, wouVA \ift tnoTt vn 
/ tbiok. How on earth do you fin4 \.\m© V* i!to 


You make my hair stand on end ; an agreeable aenntion, lot 
I am charmed to find that I have any. Why don't yon oom 
yourself and look after Grarrick ? I should be truly delighted 
to receive you. 

My dear Fitzgerald, always faithfully yoon. 


Gad's Hill, Thondmy, 37th Deeembtr, IM 

Dear Madam, — You make an absurd though common m» 
take, in supposing that any human creature can help you to be 
an authoress, if you cannot become one in virtue of your on 
powers. I know nothing about ** impenetrable barrier," '* oat> j 
siders," and " charmed circles." I know that any one who eia 
write what is suitable to the requirements of my own jooml 
— for instance — is a person I am heartily glad to discover, ind 
do not very often find. And I believe this to be no rare eiee 
in periodical literature. I cannot undertake to advise yoa in 
the abstract, as I number my unknown correspondents by ths 
hundred. But if you o£fer anything to me for insertion in ''All 
the Year lioiind," you may be sure that it will be honestly 
read, and tliat it will l)o judged by no test but its own merita 
and adaptability to those pages. 

But I am l)oiind to add that I do not repjard successful fictioo 
as a thing to be achieved in " leisure moments." 

Faithfully yours. 


Gai)*8 Hill Placr, Hioham bt RocRKftTsit, Kz5T, 

Friday, December 28, 1866. 

My DEAREST Macready, — I have received vour letter with 
tho utmost pleasure, and we all send our most affectionate love 
t<^ you, Mrs. Macready, Katie, Johnny, and the boy of boys. 
All p(hmI Christmas and New Year greetings are to be under- 
stood as incliuled. 

You will he interested in knowing that, encouraged by the 
success of summer cricket-matches, I got up a quantity of foot- 
races and rustic sports in my field here on the 26th last past : 
as I have never yet had a case of drunkenness, the landlord of 
The Falstaff had a drinking-booth on the ground* All the 


pritea I gave were in money, too, We had two thonsand people 
here. Among the crowd were soldiers, navviea, and labourers 
of all kinds. Not a Btake was pulled up, or a rope Blackened, 
or one farthing's worth of damage done. To every competitor 
(only) a printed bill of general rules was given, with the con- 
cluding words : " Mr. Dickens puts every man upon his honour 
to assist ill preserving order." There was not a diepute all day, 
and they went away at euneet rending the air with chcere, and 
leaving every Sag on a six hundred yards' course as neat as 
they found it when the gates were opened at ten in the morn- 
ing. Surely this is a bright sign in the neighbourliood of such 
a place as Chatham ! 

" Mugby Junction " turned, yesterday afternoon, the ex- 
ttaordinary number of two hundred and fifty thousand ! 

In the middle of next month I begin a new course of forty- 
two readiugs, U any of them bring me within reach of 
CholtenliHiii, witli an hour to spare, I shall come on to you, 
eTen for that hour. More of this when I am afield and have 
my list, which Dolby (for Chappell) is now preparing. 

Forster and Mrs. Forsler were to have come to ua next 
Monday, to stay until Saturday. I write " were," because I 
h«ar that Forster (who liad a touch of bronchitis when he wrote 
to me on Christmas Eve) is in bed. Katie, who has been ill of 
low nervous fever, was brought here yesterday from London. 
She bore the Journey much better than I expected, and so I 
ho|w will soon recover. This is my little stock of newa. 

I begin to discover in your riper years, that you have been 
aecretly vain of your handwriting all your life. For I swear I 
see DO change in it ! What it always was since I first knew it 
r or two ! ) it u. This I will maintain against all comers. 
Ever affectionately, ray deareet Macrendy. 

rxixvrn. m. de cerjat 

Oar's Hill Placb, Hiorjim bt RocnisTGB, Kent, 
New YMr-a Hay, 18117. 

i DEiLB Crbjat, — Thoroughly determined to he before- 
" "i " the middle of next summer," your penitent ttveni. 
jnoraeful correspondent thus addresses you. 

' b on 4 day Jast autumn, having ecized. aVAAa tfi^ 
Tvants) whom be knew, auOL "saa " 


to respect, wus flogged by liia master, aud then sentenced to be 
shot at seven next morning. He went out very cheerfully witb 
the half-doKsn men told off for the purpose, evidently thinking 
that they wore going to be the death of somebody unknown. 
But ob^rving in the procession an empty wheelbarrow and a 
double-barrelled guu, ho became meditative, and fixed the bearer 
of the gim with his eyea, A atone deftly thrown across bim 
by the village blackguard (chief mournerj caused him to look 
round for an instant, aud he then fell dead, shot through Ihe 
heart. Two posthumous children are at this moment rolling 
on the lawn ; one will evidently inherit his ferocity, and will 
probably inherit the gun. The pboaeant was a little ailing 
towards Christmas Day, and was found dead under some ivy in 
hia cage, with his head under his wing, on the morning of the 
twenty -seventh of December, one tbousaiid eight hundred and 
sixty-six. I, proprietor of the remains of the two deceased, am 
working hard, getting up " Barbos " and " The Boy at Mugbj," 
with which I begin a new series of readings in London on the 
fifteenth. Next morning I believe I start into the comitrj'. 
Wlieri I read, I iloti'f write. I only edit, and Lave the fttxi- 


t dear fellow, I have no mure power to stop that mutilation 
r books than you have. It ia ub certain as that every 
InventoT of anything designed for the public good, and offered 
to the English Goveraiuent, becomes ipso factu a criminal, to 
hftve his heart broken on the circnmlocutional wheel. It is as 
certain as that the whole Crimean story will be retold whenever 
this country again goes to war. And to tell the truth, I liave 
such a very email opinion of what the great genteel have done 
tot US, that I am very philosophical indeed concerning what 
the great vulgur may do, having a decided opinion that they 
on't do worse. 

This is the time of year when the theatres do heat, there 
being still numbers of people who make it a sort of religion to 
see Christmas pantomimes. Having my annual houseful, I 
have, as yet, seen nothing. Fechter Ims neither pantomime nor 
burlesque, hut is doing a new version of the old " Trente Ans 
de la Vie d'un Joueur." I am afraid he will not find his 
account in it. On the whole, the theatres, except in the articles 
of scenery and pictorial effect, are poor enough. Hut in some 
of the smaller houses there are actors who, if there were any 
dramatic headquarters as a school, might become very good. 
The most hopeless feature is, that they liave the smallest 
possible idea of an effective and harmonious whole, each " going 
in " for himself or herself. The music-halls attract an immense 
public, and don't refine the general taste. Uut such tilings aa 
they do arc well done of their kind, and always briskly and 

The American yacht race is the last sensation. I hope the 
gnrnnl interest felt in it on this side will have a wholesome 
tntnrest on that. It will be a woeful day when John and Jona- 
IhftD throw their caps into the ring. The French Emperor is 
indubitably in a dangerous state. His Parisian popularity 
wanes, and hie army are discontented with him. I hear on high 
Authority that his secret police are always making discoveries 
tbttt render him desperately nnensy. 

Yon know how we have been swindluig in these parte. But 
perhapn you don't know tliat Mr. , the "eminent" con- 
tractor, liefore ho fell into difficulties, settled, one millwn o| 
motiry aa his wife. Such a good and devoted \\vk8\»vaiV\ 
I ■■*'^ 'f'-tMter Katie has been very ill of neT\'ouft i«vet. "^^^ 
^eemlieT nhe was in a condition to "Vie >iW.'A^^ 


down here (old high-road and poEt-horBeB), and has been stcadUy 
getting better ever einoe. Her husbacii is here too, and is on 
the whole as well as he ever ie or ever will be, I fear. 

We played forfeit-games here, lost night, and then pool For 
a bitliartl-rooin has been added to the house since you were here. 
Come and play a match with me. 

Always affectionately. 

Adeubi Hotbi« Livkbpooi. Mondfly, Jeantxy 21, 1S67. 

My dearest GKoaoT, — Firet 1 send you my moat affec- 
tionate wishes for many, many happy returns of jour birthday. 
That done, fiom my heart of hoarte, I go on to my Email leport 
of myself. 

The readings have produced such au immentie effect here that 
we are coming back for two more in the middle of Febniarj. 
"Marigold" and the "Trial," on Friday night, and tb« 
" Carol," on Saturday afternoon, were a perfect furore ; and the 
about " Barbox " haa been amusingly great. It is a 


quiet^ and quidc. He has his needles and thread, buttons, and 
80 forth, always at hand ; and in travelling he is very systematic 
with the luggage. What with Dolby and what with this skilful 
valet, everything is made as easy to me as it possibly can be, 
and Dolby would do anything to lighten the work, and does 

There is great distress here among the poor (four thousand 
people relieved last Saturday at one work-house), and there is 
great anxiety concerning seven mail-steamers styme days over- 
due. Such a circumstance as this last has never been known. 
It is supposed that some great revolving storm has whirled them 
all out of their course. One of these missing ships is an 
American mail, another an Australian mail. 

Same Afternoon. 

We have been out for hours in the bitter east wind, and 
walking on the seashore, where there is a broad strip of great 
blocks of ice. My hands are so rigid that I write with great 

We have been constantly talking of the terrible Eegent's 
Park accident I hope and believe that nearly the worst of it 
ia now known. 


Chxstkb, TaesdAji Janoary 22, 1867. 

My dearest Mamie, — We came over here from Liverpool 
at eleven this forenoon. There was a heavy swell in the Mer- 
•ey breaking over the boat ; the cold was nipping, and all the 
loads we saw as we came along were wretched. We find a very 
moderate let here ; but I am myself rather surprised to know 
that a hundred and twenty stalls have made up their minds to 
the undertaking of getting to the hall. This seems to be a 
very nice hotel, but it is an extraordinary cold one. Our read- 
ing for to-night is " Marigold " and " Trial." With amazing 
perversity the local agent said to Dolby: "They hoped that 
Mr. Dickens might have given them * The Boy at Mugby.' " 

Barton, the gas-man who succeeded the man who sprained his 
leg, sprained his leg yesterday I ! And that, not at his work, 
bat in running down stairs at the hotel. However, he has hob- 
bled through it so far, and I hope will hobble on, for he knows 
his work« 



I h^ve addon aMO s [iaoe look aon bopelenl; frown np 
thu this plMK does. Tbe hall is like * Methodist chapel m 
hnr ifuihi, md with a told in its bead. A fen- Uue people 
^ii*wr «t th« eomrrs of tfae rtRvts. And this boase, which ia 
oatade the tovn. looks like an ornament cot an immjcnae twelfth 
cake b-ied for 1M7. 

I am BOW goiag to tbe fin to tij to waim mjself, but have 
Dot tb« lead expectatioci of aocoeeding. The Eitting-room hai 
two Iai^ windows in it, down to tbe ground and fadng due 
east. Th« adjoining hcdioom (mine) haa also two large windows 
in it, down to the groond and facing due ea»t. The veiy lai^ 
doors are opposite the Urge wiadows, «nd I feel u if I weie 
something to eat in a pantEj. 


ThmsiiJ, Juiuuj H, ISCT. 

At Chester we read in a snow-storm and a fall of iw> 1 
tbink it was the worst wtather I ever saw. Xeverthele^ the 


Daring the " Boy " last night there was an escape of gas from 

the side of my top hatten, which caught the copper wire and 

was within a thread of hringing down the heavy reflector into 

the stalls. It was a very ticklish matter, though the audience 

knew nothing ahout it. I saw it, and the gas-man and Dolhy 

saw it, and stood at that side of the platform in agonies. We 

ill three calculated that there would he just time to finish and 

are it ; when the gas was turned out the instant .1 had done, 

the whole thing was at its very last and utmost extremity. 

Whom it would have tumbled on, or what might have been set 

on fire, it is impossible to say. 

I hope you rewarded your police escort on Tuesday night. 
It was the most tremendous night I ever saw at Chester. 


Leeds, Friday, February 1, 1867. 

We got here prosperously, and had a good (but not great) 
ham for « Barbox " and " Boy " last night. For " Marigold " 
»nd "Trial," to-night, everything is gone. And I even have 
my doubts of the possibility of Dolby's cramming the people in. 
For " Marigold " and " Trial " at Manchester, to-morrow, we 
tlso expect a fine hall. 

I shall be at the office for next Wednesday. If Charley 
Collins should have been got to Gad's, I will come there for 
that day. If not, I suppose we had best open the official 
Ijower again. 

This is a beastly place, with a very good hotel. Except 
Preston, it is one of the nastiest places I know. The room is 
like a capacious coal cellar, and is incredibly filthy ; but for 
flonnd it is perfect. 


Office of "Ali. the Tear Round," 
Tuesday, February 5, 1867. 

Dear Sir, — I have looked at the larger half of the first 
Tolnme of your novel, and have pursued the more difficult 
points of the story through the other two volumes. 

You will, of course, receive my opinion as that of an indi- 
^dual writer and student of art, who by no means claims to be 

248 i.£rrEss or chakles dickzns 

I think yon an too ambitions, aod that jou hare not 
mfficieat knowledge of life oi character to venture on so com- 
prehensive an attempt. Evidences of inexperience la ever; 
way, and of yoar power being far below the situations thai 
yon imagine, present therowlves to me in almost every p^ I 
have rea<l. It wonld greatly sarpriae me if you found s 
publisher for this story, on trying your fortune in that lior, 
or derived aoything from it bat wearineee and bitterness of 

On the evidence thus pnt before me, I cannot even enKrely 
Bati:«fy myself that you have the faculty of authorship latent 
within you. If you have not, and yet pursues vocation towards 
which you have no call, you cannot chooee but be a wretched 
man. Let me counsel you to have the patience to form yourself 
carefully, and the courage to renounce the endeavour if you can- 
not establtab your case on a very much smaller scale. You see 
around you every day, how many outlets there are for short 
pieces of Kction in all kinds. Try if you can achieve any 
Buccess within these modest limits (I have practised in my time 
what I preach to you), and in the mean time put your three 



Glasgow, Sunday, Febmaiy 17, 1867. 

We arrived here this morning at our time to the moment, 
fiye minutes past ten. We turned away great numbers on both 
nights at Liverpool ; and Manchester last night was a splendid 
ipectacle. They cheered to that extent after it was over, that 
I was obliged to huddle on my clothes (for I was undressing to 
prepare for the journey), and go back again. 

After so heavy a week, it was rather stiff to start on this 
long journey at a quarter to two in the morning ; but I got 
■ore sleep than I ever got in a railway carriage before, and it 
radly was not tedious. The travelling was admirable, and a 
woDdeifal contrast to my friend the Midland. 

I am not by any means knocked up, though' I have, as I had 
in the last series of readings, a curious feeling of soreness all 
nmnd the body, which I suppose to arise from the great exer- 
tioa of voice. It is a mercy that we were not both made really 
ill at Liverpool. On Friday morning I was taken so faint and 
nek, that I was obliged to leave the table. On the same after- 
noon the same thing happened to Dolby. We then found that 
I part of the hotel close to us was dismantled for painting, and 
tbat they were at that moment painting a green passage leading 
to onr rooms, with a most horrible mixture of white lead and 
ttsenic. On pursuing the inquiry, I found that the four lady 
book-keepers in the bar were all suffering from the poison. 


Bridqb of Allan, Tuesday, February 19, 1867. 

I was very glad to get your letter before leaving Glasgow 
this morning. This is a poor return for it, but the post goes 
out early, and we come in late. 

Yesterday morning I was so unwell that I wrote to Frank 
Beard, from whom I shall doubtless hear to-morrow. I men- 
tion it, only in case you should come in his way, for I know 
how perversely such things fall out. I felt it a little more 
exertion to read afterwards, and I passed a sleepless night after 
that again ; but otherwise I am in good force and spirits to-day. 
I may say, in the best force. 


The quiet of this little place is sure to do tne good. The 
little inn in which we are established seems a capital house of 
the best country sort 


Glibgok, Thmdir, Febni»7 H, 1W7. 

After tvro days' rest at the Bridge of Allan I am in renewed 
force, and have nothing to complain of but inability to sleep. 
I huve Urn in excellent air all day since Tuesday at noon, and 
made an interesting walk to Stirling yesterday, and saw its hons, 
ai)d (strange to relate) was not bored by them. Inileed, they 
left me so fresh that I knocked at the gat« of the prison, pre- 
sented myself to the go\-emor, and took Dolby over the jail, to 
his unspeakahle interest. We then vralked back again to our 
excellent country inn. 

Inclosed is a letter from Alfred, which you and yonr aunt 
tt-ill bo interested in reading, and which I meant to send yon 
sooner but foi^ot it Wonderful as it is to mention, the son 
" e to-day ! But to counterbalance that jihenomenon I 



alfrays prize it highly. The terms in which you send me that 
mark of your remembrance ^ are more gratifying to me than I 
can possibly express to you ; for they assure me that there is 
nothing but good will left between you and me and a people for 
whom I have a real regard, and to whom I would not wilfully 
ha?e given an offence or done an injustice for any worldly 

Believe me, very faithfully yours. 

NEWOA8TLB-oif-TTNB, Wednesday, March 6, 1867. 

The readings have made an immense effect in this place, and 
it is remarkable that although the people are individually rough, 
ei^lively they are an unusually tender and sympathetic 
ndienoe ; while their comic perception is quite up to the high 
London standard. The atmosphere is so very heavy that yes- 
terday we escaped to Tynemouth for a two hours' sea walk. 
There was a high north wind blowing and a magnificent sea 
nrnniog. Large vessels were being towed in and out over the 
itomy bar, with prodigious waves breaking on it; and span- 
ning the restless uproar of the waters was a quiet rainbow of 
^nuiecendent beauty. The scene was quite wonderful. We 
were in the full enjoyment of it when a heavy sea caught us, 
booked us over, and in a moment drenched us, and filled even 
oar pockets. We had nothing for it but to shake ourselves 
together (like Doctor Marigold) and dry ourselves as well as 
we could by hard walking in the wind and sunshine ! But we 

were wet through for all that when we came back here to 

dinner after half an hour's railway ride. 
I am wonderfully well, and quite fresh and strong. Have 

had to doctor Dolby for a bad cold ; have not caught it (yet), 

and have set him on his legs again. 
Scott is striking the tents and loading the baggages, so I 

must deliver up my writing-desk. We meet, please God, on 


1 A copy of Benisch's Hebrew and English Bible with the inscription : ** Pre- 
sented to Charles Dickens, in grateful and admiring recognition of his having 
exercised the noblest qoality man can possess — that of atoning for an injury 
as soon as ooosdous of having inflicted it" 


SlIELilUUIiNE SOTKL, Dtblis, Pridijr, MlTch 15, 18ST. 

We made our journey through an incessant snow-fltorm on 
Wednesday night ; at last got sttowed up among the Welsh 
mountains in a tremendous storm of wind, came to a Btop, and 
had to dig the engine out. We went to bed at Holyhead at 
six in the morning of Thursday, and got aboard the packet 
at two yesterday afternoon. It blew bard, but aa the wind was 
right astern, we only rolled and did not pitch much. As I 
walked about on the bridge all the four hours, and had cold 
salt beef and biscuit there and brandy and water, you will infer 
that my Channel training has not worn out. 

Our " business " here is eery I/ad, though at Belfast it is aior- 
mous. There is no doubt that great alarm prevails here. ThiJ 
hotel is constantly filling and emptying as families leave the 
country, and set in a current to the steamers. There is appte- 
hensioD of some disturbance between to-morrow night and Mon- 
day night (both inclusive), and I learn this moming that alt the 


There is considerable alarm here beyond all question, and 
^reat depreesioa in all kinds of trade and conunerce. To-mor- 
row being St. Patrick's Day, there are apprehensions of some 
disturbance, and croake» predii^t that it will come off between 
to-night and Monday night. Of course there are preparations 
on all aides, and lai^ musters of soldiers and police, though 
they are kept carefully out of sight. One would not suppose, 
walking about the streets, that any disturlnnce was impending ; 
tad yet there is no doubt that the materials of one lie einoul- 
dering up and down the city and all over the country. [I have 
A letter from Mrs. Beroal Osborne tltis morning, deecrihing the 
forliGed way in which site is living in her own hou^ in the 
County Tipjierary.] 

You may be quite sure that your venerable parent will take 
good csre of bimself. If any riot were to break out, I should 
itnmediat^'ly stop the leadings here. Slioidd all remain quiet, 
I begin to think they will be satisfactorily remunerative after 
all. At Belfast, we shall have an enormous house. I read 
"Cbpperfield" and "Bob" here on Monday; "Marigold" and 
" Trial " at ISelfast. on Wednesday ; and " Carol " and " Trial " 
here, on Friday. This is all my news, except that I am in per- 
fect force. 

SnELBoeitna Botel, Duslih, Sunday, March IT, 186T. 
ything remains in appearance perfectly quiet here. The 
ttreols are gay all day, now that the weather has improved, and 
ungiilarly quiet and deserted at night. But the whole place is 
•*crelly girt in with a military force. To-morrow night is sup- 
posed to bo a critical time ; but in view of the enormous prepo- 
ntions, I ahonld say that tho chancea are at least one hundred 
to one against any disturbance. 

I cannot make sure whether I wrot« to you yesterday, and 
Wd yon that we had done very well at the first reading after 
dl, even in money. The reception was prodigious, and the 
'ings are the town talk. But I rather think I did actually 
( this to you. My doubt on the subject MiseB iiowi to.-j 
l*nn g deliberated obout writing on a Sntiirday, 

ouB and, for facilities o( mete de%\.rv\GiwT», w\cfe 
a different quarters, the iiioet AangBVoua vvetfc 


lof intelligence imparted to me on authority is, that the Dublin 
Idomestic men Bervants as a class are all Feaians. 


BKLfABi, Wedne>d»y, M«th 30, ISW. 

The post goes oat at twelve, and I have onlj' time lo report 
BmyHelf. The snow not lying between this and Duhlin, we gol 
Ihere yesterday to our time, after 3 cold but pleasant jouraej. 
iFitzgerald came on with he, I had a really charming letter 
Ifrom Mrs. Fitzgerald, asking me to stay there. She must be a 
Bperfectly unaffected and genuine lady. There are kind messages 
Ito you and Mary in it, I have sent it on to Mary, who will 
BprohaHy in her turn show it to you. ^Ve had a wondeifal 
|crowd at Duhlin on Monday, and greatest appreciation possible. 
1 have a good let, in a large hull, here to-night. But 1 am 
fectly convinced that the worst part of the Fenian buamesi 

1 about the Fitzgeralds and everything else when we meet 



NuEwicK, Friday, Manh 29, 188T. 

The TMeption at Cambridge last night waa eomcthitig to be 
proud of in such a place. The colleges mustered in full force 
from the biggest guns io the smallest, and went far beyond even 
Manchester in the riare of welcome and the rounds of cheera. 
All through the readings, the whole of the assembly, old men 
as well as young, and women as well as men, took everytbinj; 
with a heartiness of enjoyiuent not to be described. The place 
was crammed, and the success the most brilliant I have ever 

What we are doing in this sleepy old place I don't know, but 
I have no doubt it is mild enough. 


Ofkice or " ALU the Tbab Roomd,- 
Monday, April 1, 1807. 

Mt dkak Thokxbitrv, — I am very doubtful indeed atwut 
" Vaax," and have kept it out of the numlter in consequence. 
The mere details of such a rascal's proceedings, whether re- 
corded by himself or set down by the Reverend Ordinary, are 
not wholesome for a large audience, and are scarcely justifiable 
(I think) OS clniminf; to be a piece of literature, I can under- 
riud Barringtoii to lie a good subject, as involving the repre- 
nntnlion of a period, a style uf manners, an order of dre», 
Mitain hnbits of street Ufa, assembly-room life, and cotiee-room 
Hit, etc; but there is a very broad distinction between this and 
iu» Newgate Calendar. The latt«r would assuredly damage 
yoat book, and bo protested ngainst to me. I have a convic- 
tion ot it, founded on constant observation and experience 

Your kind invitation ia extremely welcome and acceptable to 
"IB, but I am sorry to add that I must not go a visiting. For 

Kttson : So incessantly have I been ''reading,'' that I have 
ice been nt home at (iad's Hill since lust January, Ttw4 vnx 
iktly to get there before the middle of Miij, SM.i?,*^^''' 
txtur's eye loiist Iw kept on the place w\»cn W Aftca a.V 
get a Jnok at it after so long an absence \ 1 \vo^c ^ o\x 


will descry in tliis a reason for coming to me again, instead of 
my coming to you. 

The extinct prize-figliterSy as a body, I take to be a good sub- 
ject, for much the same reason as Greorge Barrington. Thdr 
patrons were a class of men now extinct too, and the whole ring 
of those days (not to mention Jackson's rooms in Bond Stnefc) 
is a piece of social history. Now Yaux is not, nor is he em t 
phenomenon among thieves. 

Faithfully yours always. 


Gad's Hill Place, Hioram bt Rocrestkb, Knr, 

Wednesdmy, April 17, 18$7. 

My dear Robert Lttton,^ — It would have been retfly 
painful to me, if I had seen you and yours at a reading of mine 
in right of any other credentials than my own. Your appiedi- 
tion has given me higher and purer gratification than your 
modesty can readily believe. When I first entered on this in- 
terpretation of myself (then quite strange in the public ear), I 
was sustained by the hope that I could drop into some hearts 
some new expression of the meaning of my books, that would 
touch them in a new way. To this hour that purpose is so 
strong in me, and so real are my fictions to myself, that, after 
hundreds of nights, I come with a feeling of perfect freshness to 
that little red table, and laugh and cry with my hearers, as if I 
had never stood there before. You will know from this what a 
delight it is to be delicately understood, and why your earnest 
wonls cannot fail to move me. 

We are delighted to be remembered by your charming wife, 
and I am intrusted with more messages from this house to her 
than you would care to give or withhold, so I suppress them 
myself and absolve you from the difficulty. 

Affectionately yours. 

1 The Hon. Robert Lytton, in literature well known as *' Owen Meredith." 



Gad's Hill Plaok. Hiqhah bt Rociikstbb, 
Thnnilar, April IS, 18HT. 

DEAR Staxsy, — The time of year reminila me how the 
iQontha have goite, since I last heard from you through Mrs. 

I hope you have not thought me unmindful of you in tho 
mean while, I have been ftlmoat constantly travelling and read- 
ing. England, Ireland, and Scotland have laid hold of me hy 
turiiB, and I huve had no rest. Aa soon as I hod liuished this 
kind of work last y(^ar, 1 hod to fall to work upon " All the 
Yoar Round" and the Christmas number, I was no sooner 
quit of that task, and the Christmas season was but run out to 
its last dny, when I was tempted into another course of fifty 
taadings that are not yet over. I am Imre now for two days, 
■ad hare not eeeo the place since Twelfth ^Night. \Yhen a 
rending iu London has been done, I have been brought up for it 
from some gre-at distance, and have next morning been carried 
hack again. Hut the lifty will be " paid out " (as we say at 
•ea) by the middle of ifciy, and then I hope to see you. 

Reading nt Cheltenham the other day, I saw Macrcady, who 
MBt his love to you. His face was much more massive and as it 
lued to he, than when I saw hira previous to his illnesH. His 
wife takes admirable care of him, and is on the happiest terms 
with his claughter Kntie, His boy by the second ninrringe ia & 
jolly litlle fellow, nnd leads a far easier life than the children 
jomind I remember, who used to come in at dessert and have 
•icli • biscuit and a glass of water, in which last rofreKhment I 
Wit ftlwsys convinced that they drank, with the gloomiest 
UaUgaity, " Destruction to the gormandising grown-up com- 

I hope to look up your latest triumphs on the dny of tha 
AcMdeniy dinner. Of course as yet I have had no opportunity 
of even hearing of what any one has done. I have been (in a 
ptieml way) mowed up for four months. The locomotive with 
•liicli I WHS going lo Ireland was dug out of the snow ti.t m\4.- 
*'|hl, in Wales. Both finssages across were Tuadft \n n. K-oxvka 
tJMr^torm. Tiieenotr lay ankle-deep in Dublin, anA titn-e^uwA. 
In Scotland it slanted before a perpeVM»\ bosSj 


In Yorkshire, it derived novelty from ibunder and lightning. 
Whirlwinds everywhere I don't mention. 

God bless you uud youra. If I look like some weathcr-bcnlen 
pilot when wfi meet, don't he surprised. Any mahc^anj-faced 
stranger who holds out his hand to you will probably turn out, 
on inspection, to be the old original Dick. 

Ever, my dear Stanny, your faithful and affectionate. 

P. S. ~ I wish you could have been with me (of course in a 
snow-atorm) one day on the pior at Tynemouth. There was a 
very heavy sea running, and a perfect fleet of screw merchant 
men were plunging in and out on the turn of the tide at high 
water. Suddenly there came a golden horizon, and a moat 
glorious niinbiiw buret out, arching one large ship, as if she 
were sailing direct for heaven. I was eo enchanted hy ttc 
accno thiit I became oblivious of a few thousand tons of water 
coming on in an enormous roller, and was knocked down and 
beaten by its spray when it broke, and so completely wetted 
through and through, that the very pocket* in my pocket-book 
were full of sea. 

W. H. WILLS 259 

I saw him for the last time on earth. May God he with her, 
and with yoa all, in your great loss. 

Affectionately yours always. 


ThuncUiy, June 6, 1867. 

My deab Wills, — I cannot tell you how warmly I feel 
your letter, or how deeply I appreciate the affection and regard 
in which it originates. I thank you for it with all my heart. 

Tou will not suppose that I make light of any of your mis- 
giTings if I present the other side of the question. Every 
objection that you make strongly impresses me, and will he 
revolved in my mind again and again. 

When I went to America in '42, 1 was so much younger, hut 
(I think) very much weaker too. I had had a painful surgical 
operation performed shortly hefore going out, and had had the 
labour from week to week of " Master Humphrey's Clock." 
My life in the States was a life of continual speechmaking 
(quite as laborious as reading), and I was less patient and more 
irritable then than I am now. My idea of a course of readings 
in America is, that it would involve far less travelling than you 
suppose, that the large first-class rooms would absorb the whole 
coarse, and that the receipts would be very much larger than 
your estimate, unless the demand for the readings is enor- 
mously exaggerated ON ALL HANDS. There is consider- 
able reason for this view of the case. And I can hardly tliink 
that all the speculators who heset, and all the private corre- 
spondents who urge me, are in a conspiracy or under a common 

I shall never rest much while my faculties last, and (if I 
know myself) have a certain something in me that would still 
be active in rusting and corroding me, if I flattered myself that 
I was in repose. On the other hand, I think that my habit of 
easy self -abstraction and withdrawal into fancies has always 
refreshed and strengthened me in short intervals wonderfully. 
I always seem to myself to have rested far more than T have 
worked ; and I do really helieve that I have some exceptional 
faculty of accumulating young feelings in short pauses, which 
obliterates a quantity of wear and tear. 

My worldly circumstances (such a large family considered) 


are very good. I don't want money. All my possessions are 
free and in the best order. Still, at fifty-five or fifty-sii, the 
likelihood of making & very great addition to one's capital in 
half a year is aa immense consideration. ... I repeat the 
phrase, because there should be something large to set againsl 
the objections. 

I dine with Foratflr t<wiay, to talk it over. I have nodouM 
he will Mige most of your objections and particularly the last, 
though American friends and correspondents he has have un- 
doubtedly staggered him more than I ever knew him to be 
staggered on the money question. Be assured that do one am 
present any argument to me which will weigh more heartily 
with me than your kind words, and that wLatever comes of my 
present stat« of abeyance, I shall never forget your letter or 
cease to be grateful for it. 

Ever, my dear Wills, faithfully yours. 


Oiti'a Hill PuiCK, QiaitAU by RncnasTiit, Eeit, 


the plot of the rest to the last line. It gives a series of '^ narrar 
tiTes," hut it is a very curious story, wild, and yet domestic, 
with excellent character in it, and great mystery. It is pre- 
pued with extraordinary care, and has every chance of heing a 
kit It is in many respects much hetter than anything he has 
done. The question is, how shall we fill up the blank between 
Mibel'a Progress and Wilkie ? What do you think of propos- 
ing to Fitzgerald to do a story three months long ? I dare say 
he has some unfinished or projected something by him. 

I have an impression that it was not Silvester who tried 
Eliza Fenning, but Knowles. One can hardly suppose Thorn- 
Inry to make such a mistake, but I wish you would look into 
the Annual Register. I have added a final paragraph about 
the unfairness of the judge, whoever he was. I distinctly recol- 
lect to have read of his *' putting down " of Eliza Fenning's 
father when the old man made some miserable suggestion in his 
daughter's behalf (this is not noticed by Thombury), and he 
also stopped some suggestion that a knife thrust into a loaf 
adulterated with alum would present the appearance that these 
knives presented. But I may have got both these points from 
looking up some pamphlets in Upcott's collection which I once 

Your account of your journey reminds me of one of the latest 
American stories, how a traveller by stage-coach said to the 
driver : " Did you ever see a snail, sir ? " " Yes, sir.'' ** Where 
did you meet him, sir ? " "I did rCt meet him, sir ! " " Wa'al, 
sir, I think you did, if you '11 excuse me, for I 'm damned if 
you ever overtook him." Ever faithfully. 


Gad*s Hill, Thursday, July 4, 1867. 

My dear Mrs. Henderson, — I was more shocked than 
surprised by the receipt of your mother's announcement of our 
poor dear Marguerite's ^ death. When I heard of the consulta- 
tion, and recalled what had preceded it and what I have seen 
here, my hopes were very slight. 

Your letter did not reach me until last night, and thus I 
eoald not avoid remaining here to-day, to keep an American 
appointment of unusual importance. You and your mother 

1 Formerlj Miss Marguerite Power. 


both know, I think, that I had a great affection for Marguerite, 
that we had many dear remembrances together, and that her 
self-reliance and composed perseverance had awakened my higheik 
admiration in later times. No one could have stood by her 
grave to-day with a better knowledge of all that was great and 
good in her than I have, or with a more loving remembranee of ^ 
her through all her phases since she first came to London t 
pretty, timid girl. 

I do not trouble your mother by writing to her sepaiatdy. 
It is a sad, sad task to write at all. Grod help us ! 

Faithfully yoon. 


Gad'b Hiix, Julj 21, 1M7. 

My dear Fitzgerald, — I am heartily glad to get your 
letter, and shall be thoroughly well pleased to study you agun 
in the pages of " A. Y. R." 

I have settled nothing yet about America, but am going to 
send Dolby out on the 3d of next month to survey the land, 
and come back with a report on some heads whereon I require 
accurate information. Proposals (both from American and Eng- 
lish speculators) of a very tempting nature have been repeatedly 
made to me ; but I cannot endure the thought of binding myself 
to give so many readings there whether I like it or no, and, if I 
go at all, am bent on going with Dolby single-handed. 

I have l)een doing two things for America ; one, the little 
story to which you refer ; the other, four little papers for a 
chiUrs magazine. I like them both, and think the latter a queer 
combination of a child's mind with a grown-up joke. I have had 
them printed to assure correct printing in the United States. 
You shall have the proofs to road, with the greatest pleasure. 
On second thoughts, why should n't I send you the children's 
proof by this same post ? I will, as I have it here, send it 
under another cover. When vou return it, vou shall have the 
short story. Believe me, always heartily yours. 

July 28, 1867. 

I am glad you like the children, and particularly glad you 
like the pirate. I remember very well when I had a general 
idea of occupying that place in history at the same age. But I 
loved more desperately than Boldheart. 


W. H. WILLS 263 



Adblpui Hotel, Liverpool, Friday Night, August 2, 1867. 

; My deabest Geobgy, — I cannot get a boot on — wear a 

[ dipper on my left foot, and consequently am here under diffi- 
I eolUes. My foot is occasionally painful, but not very. I don't 
[ tiiink it worth while consulting anybody about it as yet. I 
nuke out so many reasons against supposing it to be gouty, 
that I really do not think it is. 

Dolby b^ me to send all manner of apologetic messages for 
his going to America. He is very cheerful and hopeful, but 
evidently feels the separation from his wife and child very 
much. His sister ^ was at Eiiston Square this morning, looking 
Tery well. Sainton, too, very light and jovial. 

With the view of keeping myself and my foot quiet, I think 
I will not come to Gad's Hill until Monday. If I don't appear 
before, send basket to Gravesend to meet me, leaving town by 
the 12.10 on Monday. This is important, as I could n't walk a 
quarter of a mile to-night for five hundred pounds. 
Love to all at Gad's. 


Gad's Hill, Monday, September 2, 1867. 

Mr DEAR Wills, — Like you, I was shocked when this new 
discovery burst upon me on Friday, though, unlike you, I never 

could believe in , solely (I think) because, often as I have 

tried him, I never found him standing by my desk when I was 
writing a letter without trying to read it. 

I fear there is no doubt that since 's discharge, he ( ) 

has stolen money at the readings. A case of an abstracted 
shilling seems to have been clearly brought home to him by 
Chappell's people, and they know very well what that means. 
I supposed a very clear keeping off from Anne's husband (whom 
I recommended for employment to Chappell) to have been refer- 
able only to ; but now I see how hopeless and unjust it 

would be to expect belief from him with two such cases within 
his knowledge. 

But don't let the thing spoil your holiday. If we try to do 

^ Mmdame Sainton Dolby. 



our duty by people we employ, by exacting their pioper 
from them on the one hand, and tieating them with all poaiUi 
consistency, gentleness, and consideration on the other, we knew 
that we do right. Their doing wrong cannot change oar doiag 
right, and that shonld be enough for us. 

So I have given my feathers a shake, and am all right agriL 
Give your feathers a shake, and take a cheeiy flutter into tiM tk 
of Hertfordshire. 

•Great reports from Dolby and also from Fields I But I ktcp 
myself quite calm, and hold my decision in abeyance untfl I 
shall have book, chapter, and verse before me. Dolby hoped 
he could leave Uncle Sam on the 11th of this month. 

Sydney has passed as a lieutenant, and appeared at hmm 
yesterday, all of a sudden, with the consequent golden gamiUM 
on his sleeve, which I, (jod foigive me, stared at without tki 
least idea that it meant promotion. 3 

I am glad you see a certain unlikeness to anything in thi 
American story. Upon myself it has made the stta^est m- 
pression of reality and originality ! ! And I feel as if I hii 
read something (by somebody else), which I should nem 
get out of my mind ! ! ! The main idea of the narrator's por- 
tion towards the other people was the idea that I had for my 
next novel in '^ A. Y. K." Bu{ it is very curious that I did LdL 
in the least see how to begin his state of mind until I walked 
into Hoghton Towers one bright April day with Dolby. 

Faithfully ever. 


Gad's Hill Plack, Hioham bt Rocnsma, Kaar, 
Tuesday, September S, 1SS7. 

This is to certify that the undersigned victim of a periodical 
paragraph-disease, which usually breaks out once in every seven 
years (proceeding to England by the overland route to India 
and per Cunard line to America, where it strikes the base of 
the Rocky Mountains, and, rebounding to Europe, perishes on 
the steppes of Russia), is not in a *^ critical state of health," 
and has not consulted ''eminent surgeons," and never was 
better in his life, and is not recommended to proceed to the 
United States for " cessation from literary labour," and has not 
had so much as a headache for twenty years. 

ChajuiBS Dickkns. 



September 3, 1867. 

Mt dear Fields, — Your cheering letter of the 21st of 
August arrived here this morning. A thousand thanks for it. 
I begin to think (nautically) that I ''head west'ard." You 
ihtll hear from me fully and finally as soon as Dolby shall have 
nported personally. 

The other day I received a letter from Mr. , of New 

York (who came over in the winning yacht, and described the 
Toyage in " The Times,") saying he would like to see me. I 
made an appointment in London, and observed that when he 
<Jii2 see me he was obviously astonished. While I was sensible 
ihit the magnificence of my appearance would fully account for 
bis being overcome, I nevertheless angled for the cause of his 
snrprise. He then told me that there was a paragraph going 
xonnd the papers to the effect that I was '' in a critical state of 
liealth." I asked him if he was sure it was n't '' cricketing " 
iate of health. To which he replied. Quite. I then asked 
him down here to dinner, and he was again staggered by finding 
F me in sporting training ; also much amused. 

Yesterday's and to-day's post bring me this unaccountable 
paragraph from hosts of uneasy friends, with the enormous and 
wonderful addition that " eminent surgeons " are sending me 
to America for " cessation from literary labour " ! ! ! So I have 
written a quiet line to " The Times," certifying to my own 
state of health, and have also begged Dixon to do the like in 
"The Athenaeum." I mention the matter to you, in order 
that you may contradict, from me, if the nonsense should reach 
America unaccompanied by the truth. But I suppose that 
"The New York Herald" will probably have got the letter 

from Mr. aforesaid. . . . 

Charles Reade and Wilkie Collins are here ; and the joke of 
the time is to feel my pulse when I appear at table, and also to 
inveigle innocent mesengers to come over to the summer-house, 
where I write (the place is quite changed since you were here, 
and a tunnel under the high-road connects this shrubbery with 
the front garden), to ask, with their compliments, how I find 
myself now. 
If I come to America this next November, even you can 


liflrilly imagine with what interest I shall try "Copperfield" on 
an American audience, or, if they give rae their heart, how freely 
an.1 fully I ahatl give, them mine. We will aak Dolby then 
whether lie ever hearj it before. 

I cannot thank you enough for your invaluable help lo 
I Dolby. Ho writes that at every turn and moment the seMB 
I aud knowledge and tact of Mr. Osgood are inestimable to him. 
Ever, my dear Fieldsj faithfully yours. 


"All ThiK Ybar Rofsd" Orrtut, 

Monday, SeplcmUr IS, lg67. 

My dkar Fechtek, — Going over the prorapt-book eate- 
I fully, I Bee one change in your part to which (on Lylton's be- 
1 bait) I positively object, as I am quite certain he would not 
I uoutient to it. It is highly injudicious besides, as strikia); out 
I the best knowu line in the piay. 

1 to your part in Act HI., the speech beginning — 



(There will not be a man in the house from any newspaper 
rho would not detect mutilations in that speech, moreover.) 



"Alx. the Tear Round" Office, 
Tuesday, September 17, 1867. 

My dbab Lytton, — I am happy to tell you that the play 
was admirably done last night, and made a marked impression. 
Pauline is weak, but so carefully trained and fitted into the 
picture as to be never disagreeable, and sometimes (as in the 
last scene) very pathetic. Fechter has played nothing nearly so 
irell as Claude since he played in Paris in the ''Dame aux 
Camillas," or in London as Kuy Bias. He played the fourth 
let as finely as Macready, and the first much better. The dress 
and bearing in the fifth act are quite new, and quite excellent. 

Of the scenic arrangements, the most noticeable are: the 
picturesque struggle of the cottage between the taste of an 
titigt and the domestic means of poverty (expressed to the eye 
with infinite tact) ; the view of Lyons (Act V., Scene 1), with 
a foreground of quay wall which the officers are leaning on, 
waiting for the general ; and the last scene — a suite of rooms 
giving on a conservatory at the back, through which the moon 
is shining. You are to understand that all these scenic appli- 
ances are subdued to the piece, instead of the piece being sacri- 
ficed to them ; and that every group and situation has to be 
considered, not only with a reference to each by itself, but to 
the whole story. 

Beaus^ant's speaking the original contents of the letter was 
& decided point, and the immense house was quite breathless 
when the Tempter and the Tempted stood confronted as he 
made the proposal. 

There was obviously a great interest in seeing a Frenchman 
play the part. The scene between Claude and Gaspar (the 
small part very well done) was very closely watched for the 
same reason, and was loudly applauded. I cannot say too much 
of the brightness, intelligence, picturesqueness, and care of 
Fechter's impersonation throughout. There was a remarkable 
delicacy in his gradually drooping down on his way home with 
his bride, until he fell upon the table, a crushed heap of shame 
ud remorse^ while his mother told Pauline the story. His 


»., (H « 4. t: 

gndual reooy^ry of himaelf as he formed better naotolaoni mi 
equally well expressed ; and his being at hsi iipti^t i^gun sal 
rushing enthusiastically to join the army, btoo^t the hoon 

I wish you could have been there. He never q»ke EkigU 
half so well as he spoke your English ; and the audieDee hasri 
it with the finest sympathy and respect I felt that I ihoiild 
have been very proud indeed to have been tiie writer of thi 
play. Ever aJTectioDalely. 


MoBdi^, StptMbv Hk isn: 

*lfT DBABXST OEOBOTy — The telegnun is deepaidied Is 
Boston : ** Yes. Go ahead." After a very anzions ooosall»> 
tion with Forster, and careful heed of whi^ is to be said far 
and against, I have made up my mind to see it out. I do Bot 
expect as much money as the cdculatoia estimate, but I 
set the hope of a large sum of money askto. 

I am so nervous with travelling and anxiety to decide 
thing, that I can hardly write. But I aend yoa these faw 
words as my dearest and best friend. 


Oppicb of "All the Tbab Roukd," 
No. 9S, Wellingtoh Street, Strahd, Lohuoh, W. (X, 
Monday, September SO^ 1S67. 

Mt dearest Mamie, — You will have had my telegram 
that I go to America. After a long discussion with Forster, 
and consideration of what is to be said on both sidee, I have 
decided to go through with it. I doubt the profit being as 
great as the calculation makes it, but the prospect is sufficiently 
alluring to turn the scale on the American side. 

Unless I telegraph to the contrary, I will come to Graves- 
end (send basket there) by 12 train on Wednesday. Love 
to all. 

We have telegraphed ^ Yes " to Boston. 

I begin to feel myself drawn towards America, as Damay, in 
the ''Tale of Two Cities/' was attracted to the Loadstone 
Bocky Paris. 



[Early in] October, 1867. 

My dkab Fields, — I hope the telegraph clerks did not 
■ntilate out of recognition or reasonable guess the words I 
added to Dolby's last telegram to Boston. '^ ^ Tribune ' Lon- 
don correspondent totally false." Not only is there not a word 
of troth in the pretended conversation, but it is so absurdly un- 
like me that I cannot suppose it to be even invented by any one 
who ever heard me exchange a word with mortal creature. For 
twenty years I am perfectly certain that I have never made 
toy other allusion to the republication of my books in America 
[ tittn the good-humoured remark, '^ that if there had been inter- 
^ utional copyright between England and the States, I should 
> ki?e been a man of very large fortune, instead of a man of 
I aodeiate savings, always supporting a very expensive public 
potition." Nor have I ever been such a fool as to charge the 
absence of international copyright upon individuals. Nor have I 
efer been so ungenerous as to disguise or suppress the fact that I 
bftTe received handsome sums for advance sheets. When I was 
in the States, I said what I had to say on the question, and 
there an end. I am absolutely certain that I have never since 
expressed myself, even with soreness, on the subject. Revert- 
ing to the preposterous fabrication of the London correspondent, 
the statement that I ever talked about " these fellows " who 
republished my books or pretended to know (what I don't know 
it this instant) who made how much out of them, or ever talked 
of their sending me " conscience money,'' is as grossly and 
completely false as the statement that I ever said anything to 
the effect that I could not be expected to have an interest in 
the American people. And nothing can by any possibility be 
User than that. Again and again, in these pages ^ All the 
Year Round ") I have expressed my interest in them. You 
will see it in the " Child's History of England." You will see 
it in the last preface to " American Notes.'' Every American 
who has ever spoken with me in London, Paris, or where not, 
knows whether I have frankly said, " You could have no bet- 
ter introduction to me than your country." And for years 
and years, when I have been asked about reading in America, 
my invariable reply has been^ '* I have so many friends there. 


and constantly receive so many earnest letters from personally 
unknown readera there, that, but for domestic reasons, I would 
go to-morrow." I think I must, in the confidential interconrse 
between you and me, have written you to this effect more than 

The statement of the Ixmdon correspondent from beginning 
to end is false. It is false in the letter and false in the spirit. 
He may have been raiBinformed, and the statement may not 
have originated with him. With whomsoever it originated, it 
never originated with me, and consequently is false. More than 
enough about it. 

As I hope to see you so soon, my dear Fields, and ns I am 
busily nt work on the Christmas number, I wiU not make this a 
longer letter than T can help. I thank you most heartily lor 
your proffered hospitality, and need not tell you that if I went 
to any friend's house in America, I would go to yours. Bit 
the readings are very hard work, and I think I cannot do bettw 
than observe the rule on that side of tlie Atlantic which I 
observe on this, of never, under such circumstances, going to i 
friend's house, but always staying at a hotel. I am slile to 


Bow Street Bunners (as compared with Modem Detectives) ? 

Taoxhall and Kanelagh in the Last Century ? Most decid- 
fldlj. Don't forget Miss Bumej. 

Smugglers ? No. Overdone. 

lacenaire ? No. Ditto. 

Madame Laffarge ? No. Ditto. 

Fashionable Life Last Century ? Most decidedly Yes. 

Debates on the Slave Trade ? Yes, generally. But beware 
rf the Pirates, as we did them in the beginning of '^ Household 

Certainly I acquit you of all blame in the Bedford case. But 
CDe cannot do otherwise than sympathise with a son who is 
Maonably tender of his father's memory. And no amount of 
idfate correspondence, we must remember, reaches the readers 
rf a printed and published statement. 

I told you some time ago that I believed the arsenic in Eliza 
Knming's case to have been administered by the apprentice. I 
•BTer was more convinced of anything in my life than of the 
girl's innocence, and I want words in which to express my in- 
dignation at the muddle-headed story of that parsonic blunderer 
whose audacity and conceit distorted some words that fell from 
her in the last days of her baiting. Ever faithfully yours. 


Gad's Hill Place, Higham by Rochester, Rent, 

Monday, October 14, 1867. 

My dear Lytton, — I am truly delighted to find that you 
are so well pleased with Fechter in " The Lady of Lyons." It 
was a labour of love with him, and I hold him in very high 

DorCt give way to laziness, and do proceed with that play, 
rhere never was a time when a good new play was more wanted 
)r had a better opening for itself. Fechter is a thorough artist, 
ind what he may sometimes want in personal force is compen- 
ated by the admirable whole he can make of a play, and his 
)erfect understanding of its presentation as a picture to the eye 
md mind. 

I leave London on the 8th of November early, and sail from 
!iverpool on the 9tlL Ever affectionately yours. 


Mt dear Lyttox, — I have read the Play' with gwal 
attention, interest, and admiration ; and I nrad not blj to y»a 
that the art of it — the fine construction — the exquisite nicety 
of the touches — with which it is wrought out — have been i 
Btudj to me in the pursuit of which I have had eittaonlinuy 

Tuking the Plaj ae it etande, I have nothing wbutevei to add 
to your not^s aod memoranda of the point* to be touched agUB, 
except that I have a little uneaeiness in that burst of angei and 
infiexibility consequent on having been deceived, roming out of 
Ilegio. I see the kind of actor who must play H^o, and I 
Bee that the audience will not believe in hia doing anything M 
serious. (I suppiose it would be impossible to get this effeel 
out of the mother — or through the mother's influence, insteul 
of out of the godfather of Hegio]K)liB ?) 

JJow. as to the classical ground and manners of the Play. I 

of Alarting fair with the audience, it is my oonvictioE that you 
would start i?ith them i^aiust you and would huve to win them 

Furthermore, with reference to your note to me on this head, 
you take up a position with reference to poor dear Talfourd'a 
" Ion " which I altogetlior dispute. It never was a popular 
play, I say. It derived a certain amount of out-of-door's 
popularity from the circumstnncea under which, an<l the man by 
whom, it was ^vritten. But I soy tliat it never was a popular 
play on the stagn, and never made out b case of attraction tbere, 

A£ to changing the ground to Bussia, let me ask you, did 
you ever see the " Nouvelles Russes" of Nicolas Gogol, trans- 
lated into French by Louis Viardot ? There is a atory among 
them called " Tnntss IloiJIia," in which, as it aeems to me, all 
the conditions yoti want for such trauBplantalion are to be 
fotiDiL So changed, you would have the popular sympathy 
with the Slave or Serf, or Prisoner of War, from the first. But 
1 do not think it is to be got, save at great hazard, and with 
lamentable waste of force on the ground the Play now occupies. 

1 i^liall keep this note until to-morrow to correct my convic- 
tion if I can HCc the Ictaet reason for correcting it ; but I feel 
very confident indeed that 1 cannot be shuken in it. 

I have thought it over again, and have gone over the play 
i^n with an imaginary stage and actors before me, and I am 
Aill cf the sniUB mind. Shall I keep the MS. till you come to 

Believe me, ever affectionately yours, 

^^^V Se, Wkllikoton Street, Sonda^, Novnmber 3, 1867. 

^B^^DBAK Wills, — If you were to write me many such 
Vtrm-bearteil letters as you send this morning, my heart would 
llii m»; There is nothing that so breaks down my determina- 
fen, or shows me what an iron force I put upon myself, and 
^* wvak it is, 08 a touch of true aRection from a dried fT\%vv&. 

AU that you so eflmestJy say about the good wWi ani i»"i«>- 

"w.attU engaged. I perceived and dueply ie\t Wt tv\^H.. ^ 

e et-en more Hum the demonstration l\.3(r\l, ttiovn^ 



Buppoae it was the most brillimit ever Bc«n. When I got np lo 
Bpeak, but for taking a desperate hold of myself, I should bare 
lost my siyht and voice and eat down agoin. 

God bless you, my dear fellow, I am, ever and ever, 

Your affectionate. 


Orfirc OF "All thb Tkab Rooan," 

Tuesday, NoTemlwr fi, 1S6T. 

My dkab Mrb. Watson, — A thousand thanks for yout 
kind letter, and many congratulations on your having succe««- 
fully attained a dignity which 1 nei'er allow to bo mentioned in 
my presence. Charley's children are instructed from their t«n- 
dereat months only to know me as " Wenerablos," which tbej' 
aincerely lielieve to be my name, and a kind of title tliat I haw 
received from a grateful country. 

Alas ! I cannot have the pleaaure of seeing you befort 1 
presently go to Liverpool. Every moment of my time i« pre- 

;u[iied. But I send you my sincere love, and am alwiji 


Manj of the pasfwngera are American, and I am alreaily on 
the best terms with nearly all the ehip. 

We began our yoyage yestertlay a very little while after you 
left UB, which was a great relief. The wiud is S. E. this morn- 
ing, and if it would keep so we ahould go along nobly. My 
dearest love to your aunt, and also to Katie and all the rej^t. 
I am in very good heallli, tlionk (lod, and as well as possible. 


^^B Aboard the Citba, Ftve Dath Out, 

^B. WvduMdky. November 13, 1367. 

^^Kt DKARE8T Georoy. — Aa I wrote to Alamie last, I now 
Wiito to you, or mean to do it, if the motion of the ship will 

We ar» very nearly halfway to-day. The weather was fa- 
vourable for us until yesterday morning, when we got a head- 
wind which still stands by lis. We have rolled and pitched, of 
cotirse, but on the whole have been Wonderfully well off, I 
have had headache and have felt faint once or twice, bttt have 
miot bf-fn sick at nil. My spacious cabin is very noisy at night, 
■s the most important working of the ship goes on outside my 
window and over my head ; but it is very airy, and if the 
weather be bad and I can't open the window, I can open the 
door all night. If the weather he fine (as it is now), I can 
open both door and window, and write between them. Last 
night, I got a foot-bath under the dignified circumstances of 
(itting on a cami)-atool in my cabin, and having the bath (and 
uy feel) in the passage outside. The oHicers' quarters are close 
lo me, and, as I know them all, I get reports of the weather 
and the way we are making when the watch is changed, and I 
■m (as I usually am) lying awake. Tlie motion of the screw 
i« »t its slightest vibration in my particular part of the Rhip. 
The silent caplain, reported gniff, is a very good fellow and an 
Wast fellow. Kelly has been ill all the time, and not of the 
d^htMt uj*, and is ill now. Scott always cheerful, and nae- 
W, and ready; a better servant for the kind of work there 
can have been. Young Lowndes has been fearfuW^ wis)B. 
raid-day ye^terds/. Hfa cabin is pitub d&tV, s.uA iviW lA 
He shares mine until nine o'clonV &\. n\^^% 
him off to bed. He also dinea -w\\.\\ me *wi 


111}' iDsgDificent chamber. This passage in viut«r-tiiiie caonot 
be suid to be an enjoyable excursion, but I certainly am makiug 
it under the boat i^ircumstances. (I find Dolhy to have been 
enormously popular on board, and to have known everjboJj 
and gone everywbere.) 

So much for my news, except that I have been cooBtautlj 
reading, and find that " Pierra " that Mrs. Hogge sent me by 
Katio lo be a very remarkable book, not only fot its grim and 
horrible story, but for its suggestion of wheels within wheeli, 
and sad bunion mysteries. Baker's second book not newly ao 
good as bis liret, but bis first anticipated it. 

We hope to get to Halifax either on Sunday or Monday, mi 
to Boston either on Tuesday or Wednesday. The gluB is risiiig 
high to-day, and everybody on board ia hopeful of an etaterly 

Saluidiy. Ulli. 

Last Thursday afternoon a lieavy gale of wind sprang op uwl 
blew hard until dark, wben it seemed to lull. But it tbea 
came on again with great violence, and blew tremendouiil}' all | 
night. The noise and the rolling and plunging at the ebip 


Suodsy. ITIh. 

At four o'clock tliia morning we got into bad weather again, 
anil the state of things at breakfast-time was unutterably miser- 
able. Nearly all the passengera in their bertha — no possibility 
of standing on deck — sickness and groans — impracticable to 
pasB a cup of tea from one pair of Lands to another. It baa 
slightly moderated since {between two and three in the after- 
noon I write), and the sun is shining, but the rolling of the 
ship surpasses ail imagination or description. 

We expect to be at Halifax about an hour after midnight, 
and this letter shall be posted there, to make certain of catch- 
ing the return mail on Wednesday. Boston is only thirty hourx 
from Halifax. 

Best love to Mamie, and to Katie and Charley. I know you 
will report me and my love to Foraler and Mrs. Forster. I 
write with great difficulty, wedged up in a comer, and having 
my heels ou the paper as often as the i>en. Kelly worse than 
mver, and Scott better than ever. 
1 1 Hj desk and I have just arisen from the floor. 


^^^^f Parkkb Sodne, Bostoh, Tbonday, Nnvtmher !1, ISeT. 

ILT arrived here on Tuesday night, after a very slow passage 
Irom Halifax against head-winds, All the tickets for the first 
(out readings here (all yet announced) were sold immediately 
CO their being issued- 

You know that I begin on the 2d of December with " Carol " 
ud "Trial"? Shall be heartily glad to begin to count the 
' ittdings olT. 

This is an immense hotel, with all mnnner of while marble 
pablic passages and public rooms. I live in a comer high up, 
Unl have a hot and cold iMth in my bedroom (communicating 
*itli the sitting-rootn), and comforts not in existence when I 
*M linte bi'tnre. The cost of living is enormous, but happily 
■* can affnnl it. 1 dine to-day with Irfingfellow, Emerson, 
RolmcB, and Agasaii, Longfellow was here yesterday. Per- 
^Ntlf while in hair and beard, but a remarkably handwyma wA 
""table-looking man. The city has incieaeed erooTrnw^'S "w 

K -twenty years. It has grown more mercanVVie — w ^S»» 
ixeil with Preston, and tlnvour«ii with TSevj "Brv^" 


bat for miAke aiiJ fog you substilute an exqaisitely bright li^ 
aJE, I found my rooms beautifully J««oKt«d (by Mts. FieUi) 
vitti dwiee flowers, and set off by a. cumber of good booko. t 
am not ma^ persecuted by people iii genenil, ae Dolbjr hit 
liq^y nude up his mind that the less I am exhibited lor 
turtbing the better. So our men ait outside the room ilooi ud 
WTMttie with ntankind. 

We had speech-making and Binging in the saloon of the Cuk 
after the last dinner of the voyage. I think I have acquiitdi 
higher npnbitiL<n from drawing out the captain, and get^ 
him to take the second in "All's Wei!," and tikewiie ta 
"Hen's not in the wide world" (your parent taking SnQi 
than from anj^tliing previously known of me on tbeee aboMk 
I hope tiie eSei t uf these achievemeuta may not dim the InKm 
at the leadings. We also sang (with a Chicago lady awl ■ 
otroag-minded tvomnn from I don't know where) " Auld Im) 
Sjne," with a t'-tider melancholy, expressive of having all bat 
been nnited from our cradles. The more dbnial we w«k, lb 
more delighted the company were. Once (when we paddled f 
the bum) the ca]> took a little cruise round the compantB 
his own account, touching at the " Canadian Boat Song," ui 
taking in supplies at "JubUafe," "Seas between «8 braid hk' 
roared," and rLi;ired like tlie seas themselves. Finally, I pi* 
posed the ladio'f in a speech that convulsed the stewards, swl 
WB closed witli n brilliant success. B«t when you dine with 
Mr. Forster, ask him to read to joa how we got on at ehmdi 
in a heavy sea. Hillard has just been in and sent hia Ion 
" to those dear girls." He has grown much older. He is now 
District Attorney of the State of MassachosettB, which ia a ntf 
good office. Best love to your aunt and Katie, and Chaiiey and 
all his bonse, and all friends. 

Famcsb HoDSi^ Boston, Hondaj, Kovrabar n, IMT. 

I cannot remember to whom I wrote last, but it will not 
much matter if I make a mistake ; this being generally to report 
myself so well that I am constantly chafing at not having begun 
to-night instead of this night week. 

The tickets being all sold for next week, and no other ai^ 
Donncement being yet made, there is nothing new in that w^ 


27» I 

ell at. Dolby U over at New York, wLere ve are at our ^ 
i' end how to keep tickets out of the hauda of epeciilatora. , 
■gan is slaying with me ; eame yesterday to hreakfast, and 
\ home to-morrow. Fiehls and Mra. Fields alijo dined ye»- I 
ay. She is a very nice woman, with a rare relish for humour | 

a most contagious laugh. The llostoniane, having heen 
' informed that I wish to be quiet, really leave me as much 
\a 1 should he in Manchester or Liverpool. This I cannot 
!Ct to last elsewhere ; hut it is a most welcome relief here, 

have all the readings to get up. The people are perfectly 
I asd perfectly agreeable. If I stop to look in at a shop- I 
low, a Ecore of passers-by stop ; and after I begin to read, £ I 
lot expect, in the natural course of thin^, to get off so ( 
y. But I every day take from seven to ten milea in peace. 
ommunicuttoDS about readings lucessantly come in from all I 
9 of the country. We take no offer whatever, lying by with i 
plans until after the first series in Now Vork, and designi 
a make a furore there, to travel as little as possible. I fear | 
lall liavo to take Canada at the end of the whole tour. 
f malce such strong representations from Montreal and I 
int«, and from Nova Scotia, — represented by St. John | 
Halifax, — of the slight it would be to them if I wound up 
. the States, that I am shaken. 
I ia sod to see Longfellow's house (the house in which his 

was burnt) with his young daughters in it, and the shadow 
lat terrible story. The yoiujg undergraduates of Cambridge ' 
is a professor there) have made a representation lo him that 

are five hundred strong, and cannot get one ticket, I 
t know what is to be done for them ; I suppose I must 

there somehow. We are all in the clouds until I shidl 
I broken ground in New York, as to where readings will be . 
ibie and where impossible. 

.gntsie is one of the most natural and jovial of men. 
a visiting as little as I can, but still have to dine, aud, what | 
'Owe, sup pretty often. Socially, I am (as I was 
n) wonderfully reminded of Edinburgh when I had many I 
ids in it. 

'our account and Mamie's of the return journey to LoudiMk, I 
» me great pleasure. I was delighted w\tk ^omi Te'^iV «" 

<[tid BOt tUTprised by ChappcH's coming wut ga\\MiA"J - 1 
^got to work is greatflr than 1 can. ex^w 


becauBe time eecms to bo making no movement towartU home 
until I ehal! be reading hard. Then I shall begin to toiml 
and count and count the upward eteps to May. 

If ever you should be in a position to advise a traveller going 
on a sea voyage, remember that there ie some myfiterious service 
done to the bilious system when it is abaken by laked apples. 
Noticing that they were produced on board the Cuba every 
day at lunch and dinner, 1 thought I would make the experi- 
ment of always eating them freely, I am confident that th^v 
did wonders, not only at the time, but in stopping the imaginary 
pitching and rolling after the voyage ia over, from which many 
good amateur sailors suffer. I hare hardly had the sensation 
at all, except in washing of a morning. At that time I slilj 
hold on with one knee to the washing-stand, and could sweat 
that it rolls from left to right. The Cuba does not letum 
until Wednesday, the 4th December. You may suppose lh»t 
every officer ok board ia coming on Monday, and that Dolby bu ^ 
provided estra stools for them. His work ia very bard indeed 
Cards are brought to him every minute in the day; hia coire- 
apondenee is immense ; and he is jerked olf to New York, and 



Pabhkk House. Boston, U. S, 
Snlunlay, Novembet SO, 186T. 
EsKAK Charlet, — You will liave heard before now how 
fofitinate I was ou my voyoge, and how J was not aiek for a 
moment. These screws are tremendous ships for carrying on, 
and for rolling, and tlieir vibration is rather distressing. But 
my little cabin, being for'ard of tho machinery, woe ia the be«t 
part of the vessel, and I had ba much air in it, night and dny, 
W I ehoae. The saloon being kept absolutely without air, I 
iQostly dined in my own den, in spite of my heiug allotted the 
poet of honour ou the right hand of the captain. 

The tickets for the first four readings here (the only readings 
announced) were all sold immediately, and many are now re- 
•eUing at a lai^e premium. The ticketo for the first four read- 
ings in New York (the only readings announced there also) 
were on salo yesterday, and were all sold in a few hours. The 
nceipts are very large indeed ; but engagements of any kind 
and every kind I steadily refuse, being resolved to take what is 
lo be tnken myEclf. Dolby is nearly worked off his legs, is 
no* at Now York, and goes backwards and forwards between 
this place and that (about the dUtance from London to Liver- 
pool, though they take nine hours to do it) incessantly. No- 
Uung can exceed his energy and good humour, and he is 
nlremcly popular everywhere. My great desire is to avoid 
much travelling, and try to get the people U> come to mc, 
iiutead of my going to them. If 1 can effect thi3 to any moder- 
Ite extent, I shall be saved a great deal of knocking about. 
Mj original purpose was not to go to Canjida at all ; but Canada 
ii so up in arms on the subject that 1 think I shall be obliged 
tu take it at last. In that case I should work round to Halifax, 
Son Scotia, and then take tho packet for honie. 

Aa Ihey don't seem (Americans who have beard me on their 
havsU excepted) to have the least idea here of what the readings 
W like, and as they are accustomed to mere reaiUngs out of a 
wk, I am inclined to think the excitement will increase «\\wr 
I "hall have begun. Evprybody ia very kmd and.».\ie.. 
^Kil have a number ot old friends here, at the Wat krA. wm^ 
l^^f. I am now negoliatrnf^ \a \>t\tv^ 


the dramatic version of " No Thoroughfare " at New YoiL B 
is quite upon the cards that it may turn up trumps. 

I was interrupted in that place by a call from my old 
tary in the States, Mr. PutnauL It was quite affecting to m 
his delight in meeting his old master again. And when I toli 
him that Anne was married, and that I had (unacknowledged 
grandchildren, he laughed and cried together. I suppose joi 
don't remember Longfellow, though he remembers yon in i 
black velvet frock very well. He is now white-haired and 
white-bearded, but remarkably handsome. He still lives in liii 
old house, where his beautiful wife was burnt to death. I 
dined with him the other day, and could not get the teniiie 
scene out of my imagination. She was in a blaze in an insUnt^ 
rushed into his arms with a wild cry, and never spoke afte^ 

My love to Bessie, and to Mekitty, and all the babbies. I 
will lay this by until Tuesday morning, and then add a fiul 
line to it. Ever, my dear Charley, your affectionate father. 

Tuesday, December 8, 1867. 

Success last night beyond description or exaggeration. Tbi 
whole city is quite frantic about it to-day, and it is impossible 
that prospects could be more brilliant. 

Parker HorsE, Boston, Sunday, December 1, ISCT. 

I received yours of the 18th November, yesterday. As I left 
Halifax in the Cul)a that very day, you probably saw us tele- 
graphed in <^ The Times" on the 10th. 

Dolby came back from anotlier run to New York, this morn- 
ing. The receipts are very large indeed, far exceeding our care- 
ful estimate made at Gad's. I think you had best in future 
(unless I give you intimation to the contrary) address your let- 
tors to mo, at the Westminster Hotel, Irving Place, New York 
City. It is a more central position tlian this, and we are likely 
to ])e much more there than here. I am going to set up a 
])rougham in New York, and keop my rooms at that hotel. 
The account of ^Matilda is a very melancholy one, and really 
distresses me. What she must sink into, it is sad to consider. 
However, there was nothing for it but to send her away, that is 
quite clear. 


Tliejr are said to be a very quiet au'lience here, appreciative 
but not ilemontitmlive. I aliall try to eiiange theii' character a 

1 have been going on very well. A horrible custom obtains 
in these parts of afiking j-ou to dinner somewhere at half-past 
two, and to supper somewhere else about eight. I have run 
thia gnunllet more than once, and its effect is, that there is no 
day for any useful purpose, and that the length of the evening 
is multiplied by a hundrod. Yesterday I dined with a club at 
faalf-pa«t two, and came back here at half-paat eighl, with a gen- 
eral impression that it was at leaet two o'clock in the morning. 
Two days before, I dined with Longfellow at haU-past two, and 
came back at eight, supposing it to be midnight. To-day we 
have a state dinner-party in our rooms at ais. Mr. and Mrs. 
Fields, and Mr. and Airs. Bigelow. (He is a friend of Forater's, 
and was American Minister in I'aris.) There are no negro 
wait«rB here, all the aecvanta are Irish — willing, but not able. 
The dinners and wines are very good, I keep our own rooms 
well ventilated by opening the windows, hut no window is ever 
opened in the halls or passages, and they are so overlieatcd by a 
grmt furnace, that they make me faint and sick. Tiie air ie like 
that of a pre-Adamite ironing-day in full blast. Your respected 
pannt is immensely popular in Boston society, and its cordiality 
and unaffected heartiness are charming. I wish I could carry it 
with me. 

The leading New York papers have sent men over for to-mor- 
row night with instructions to telegraph columns of descriptions. 
Oraat excitement and expectation everywhere. Fields says he 
baa lookud forward to it eo long that he knows he will die at 
five minutes to eight. 

At the New York barriers, where the tickets are on sale and 
the people ranged as at the Paris theatres, speculators went up 
and down offering " twenty dollars for anybody's place." The 
mauey was in no case accepted. One man sold two tickets for 
tb« second, third, and fourth night for "one ticket for tlie first, 
fifty dollars (abont seven pounds ten ehiUings), anil a brandy 
cocktail," which is an iced bitter drink. The weather has been 
rather muggy and languid until yesterday, when thece ttft^ VV«> 
eoldfwt wind blowing that I ever felt. In the m^l \\. l^wi» 

* tbttkrJB beaatital. 


I)(I3« H, 

Host magnificent reception last night, and moat aigiial ml 
eomplete auooeeB. Nothing could he more triumphant Ih 
people will hear of nothing elae and talk of nothing elm S» 
thing that was ever done here, they all agree, erokad Of 
approach to such enthoaiaam. I waa qnite aa cool and qjoUkm 
it I were reading at Greenwich, and went at it acooidin^j. 


Boarov, WediMiday, DMUibtr^llR. 

I find that hj going off to the Cuha myaelf thia moniBg I 
can aend you the incloeed for Mary Boyle (I don't know hov 
to addreas her), whoae naoal fiower for my hatton-hols wm 
produced in the moat extraordinary manner here laat Mondif 
night ! All well and proaperoua. ^ Gopperfield '' and '^ Bok' 
laat night ; great aueceaa. 


BosTOir, Deeembtr 4^ IMT. 

Mt dear Meert, — You can have no idea of the glow d 
pleasure and amazement with which I saw your rememhrance ol 
mo lying on my drossing-table here last Monday night. Who- 
soever undertook that commission accomplished it to a mirade. 
But you must go away four thousand miles, and have such a 
token conveyed to i/ou, before you can quite appreciate the feel- 
ing of receiving it. Ten thousand loving thanks. 

Immense success here, and unbounded enthusiasm. My 
largest expectations far surpassed. 

Ever your affectionate 



Wkstmixster Hotel, Irtixg Placv, Nkw Toek Citt, 

Wednesday, December 1], 1867. 

Amazing success here. A very fine audience ; far better 
than that at Boston. Great reception. Great, "Carol" and 
'' Trial/' on the first night ; still greater, " Gopperfield " and 



** Bob," on the second. Dolby sends you a few papers by this 
post. You will see from their tone what a success it is. 

I cannot pay this letter, because I give it at the latest mo- 
ment to the mail-officer, who is going on board the Cimard 
{Mcket in charge of the mails, and who is staying in this house. 
Vfe are now selling (at the hall) the tickets for the four read- 
^ ingB of next week. At nine o'clock this morning there were 
two thousand people in waiting, and they had begun to assemble 
in the bitter cold as early as two o'clock. All night long Dolby 
and our man have been stamping tickets. (Immediately over 
my head, by the bye, and keeping me awake.) This hotel is 
qoite as quiet as Mivart's, in Brook Street. It is not very 
much larger. There are American hotels close by with five 
hundred bedrooms, and I don't know how many boarders ; but 
this is conducted on what is called " the European principle,'' 
and IB an admirable mixture of a first-lass French and English 
hoose. I keep a very smart carriage and pair ; and if you were 
to behold me driving out, furred up to the moustache, with furs 
on the coach-boy and on the driver, and with an immense white, 
red, and yellow striped rug for a covering, you would suppose 
me to be of Hungarian or Polish nationality. 

Will you report the success here to Mr. Forster with my love, 
and tell him he shall hear from me by next mail ? 

Dolby sends his kindest regards. He is just come in from 
oar ticket sales, and has put such an immense untidy heap of 
paper money on the table that it looks like a family wash. He 
hardly ever dines, and 'is always tearing about at unreasonable 
hours. He works very hard. 

My best love to your aunt (to whom I will write next), and 
to Katie, and to both the Charleys, and all the Christmas circle, 
not forgetting Chorley, to whom give my special remembrance. 
You may get this by Christmas Day. We shall have to keep 
it travelling from Boston here ; for I read at Boston on the 23d 
and 24th, and here again on the 26th. 


Wbstminstbr Hoteu Irving Placb, New Tobk City, 

Monday, December 16, 1867. 

We have been snowed up here, and the communication with 
BoBton is still very much retarded. Thus we have received no 


letters by the Cunard steamer that came in last Wedneadaj, a&d 
are in a grim state of mind on that subject. 

Last night I was getting into bed just at twelve o'clodf 
when Dolby came to my door to inform me that the house vti 
on fire (I had previously smelt fire for two hours). Igot.Seott 
up directly, told him to pack the books and clothes for the read- 
ings first, dressed, and pocketed my jewels and papers, wliile 
Dolby stuffed himself out with money. Meanwhile the poliee 
and firemen were in the house, endeavouring to find where the 
fire was. For some time it baffled their endeavours, but at lut, 
bursting out through some stairs, they cut the stairs away, and 
traced it to its source in a certain fire-grate. By this time the 
hose was laid all through the house from a great tank on the 
roof, and everybody turned out to help. It was the oddest 
sight, and people had put the strangest things on ! After t ' 
little chopping and cutting with axes and handing about d 
water, the fire was confined to a dining-room in which it had 
originated, and then everybody talked to everybody else, the 
ladies being particularly loquacious and cheerful. And so we 
got to bed again at about two. 

The excitement of the readings continues unabated, the tickets 
for readings are sold as soon as they are ready, and the public 
pay treble prices to the speculators who buy them up. They 
are a wonderfully fine audience, even better than Edinburgh, 
and almost, if not quite, as good as Paris. 

Dolby continues to be the most unpopular man in America 
(mainly because he can't get four thousand people into a room 
that holds two thousand), and is reviled in print daily. Yes- 
terday morning a newspaper proclaims of him : " Surely it is 
time that the pudding-headed Dolby retired into the native 
gloom from which he has emerged." lie takes it very coi^lly, 
and does his best. Mrs. Morgan sent me, the other night, I 
suppose the finest and costliest basket of flowers ever seen, 
made of white camellias, yellow roses, pink roses, and I don't 
know what else. It is a vard and a half round at its smallest 

I must brinpj this to a close, as 1 have to go to the hall to 
try an enlarged background. 



Boston, Sunday, December 22, 1867. 

Coming here from New York last night (after a detestable 
jooiney), I was delighted to find your letter of the 6th. I read 
it at my ten o'clock dinner with the greatest interest and pleas- 
ure, and then we talked of home till we went to bed. 

Oar tour is now being made out, and I hope to be able to 
tend it in my next letter home, which will be to Mamie, from 
whom I have not heard (as you thought I had) by the mail that 
Ivoaght out yours. After very careful consideration I have 
leversed Dolby's original plan, and have decided on taking 
Baltimore, Washington, Cincinnati, Chicago (!), St. Louis, and 
a few other places nearer here, instead of staying in New York. 
My reason is that we are doing immensely, both at New York 
and here, and that I am sure it is in the peculiar character of 
the people to prize a thing the more the less easily attainable it 
is made. Therefore, I want, by absence, to get the greatest 
msh and pressure upon the five farewell readings in New York 
in ApriL All our announced readings are already crammed. 

When we got here last Saturday night, we found that Mrs. 
Fields had not only garnished the rooms with flowers, but also 
with holly (with real red berries) and festoons of moss depen- 
dent from the looking-glasses and picture frames. She is one 
of the dearest little women in the world. The homely Christ- 
mas look of the place quite affected us. Yesterday we dined 
at her house, and there was a plum-pudding, brought on blazing, 
and not to be surpassed in any house in England. There is a 
certain Captain Dolliver, belonging to the Boston Custom House, 
who came off in the little steamer that brought me ashore from 
the Cuba. He took it into his head that he would have a 
piece of English mistletoe brought out in this week's Cunard, 
which should be laid upon my breakfast-table. And there it 
was this morning. In such afiectionate touches as this these 
New England people are especially amiable. 

As a general rule, you may lay it down that whatever you 
see about me in the papers is not true. But although my voy- 
age out was of that highly hilarious description that you first 
made known to me, you may generally lend a more believing 
ear to the Philadelphia correspondent of the " Times." I don't 

I)l») « H. 


know him, bat I know the sonice from whieh he dmft^ * 
inf onnation, and it is a very xespectaUe one. 

Did I tell you in a former letter from here to tell iM 
with her old maeter's love, that I had aeen Patnam, my <" 
aecretarj ? Grey, and with eereral front teeth oat^ hot IvonU 
. have known him anywhere. He la eoming to '^ CoppetfiBU" 
to-nighty aooompanied by his wife and danghter, and it in tti 
aevenih heaven at having his tickets given him. 

Our hotel in New York was on fiie a^in the other li^ 
But fires in this country are quite matters of oourae. Tkm , 
was a large one there at four this morning, and I don't tlunk • 
single night has passed since I have been under the prot a dia 
of the Eagle, but I have heard the fiie bells dolefully daaf^ 
all over the city. 

Dolby sends his kindest regard. His hair haa become fpak 
white, the effect, I suppose, of the climate. He is so naif*' 
sally hauled over the coals (for no leason on earth), tiiat I fall|f 
expect to hear him, one of these nights, assailed with a hovl 
when he precedes me to the platform steps. You may eoMOie 
what the low newspapers are here, when one of them yeitaidif 
morning had, as an item of news, the intelligence : '' Di^M^ 
Beadings. The chap calling himself Dolby got drunk hit 
night, and was locked up in a police-station for fighting m 
Irishman." I don't find that anybody is shocked by this lire* 

My love to all, and to Mrs. Hulkes and the boy. By tbe 
bye, when we left New York for this place, Dolby called my 
amazed attention to tbe circumstance that Scott was leaning 
his head against the side of the carriage and weeping bitteilj* 
I asked him what was the matter, and he replied : ** The owda- 
cious treatment of the luggage, which was more outrageous tbiii 
a man could bear." I told him not to make a fool of himself ; 
but they do knock it about cruelly. I think every trunk we 
have is already broken. 

I must leave off, as I am going out for a walk in a bri^t 
sunlight and a complete break-up of the frost and snow. I an 
much better than I have been during the last week, but have i 


BosTOW, Dffcomber 2S, 1867. 

The railways are truly alarming. Much worae (because more 
worn, I suppose) than when I was here before. We were 
beal«n about yeaterday, as if we bnd been aboard the Culie. 
Two rivers have to be crossed, and eacb time tbo whole train 
is banged aboard a big steamer. The steumer riaes and falls 
with the river, which the railroad don't do ; and the train is 
either banged up hill or banged down hill. In coming off the 
Bttiftmer at one of thRse ctoaaings yesterday, we wore lunged up 
such a height that the rope broke, and one carriage rushed back 
with a nm dowu hill into the boat again. I whiaked out in a 
moment, and two or three others after me; but nobody else 
seemed to care about it. The treatment of the luggage is 
perfectly outrogeoua. Nearly every ease I have is already 
broken. When we sturteil for Boston yesterday, I beheld, to 
my vinepeakable amazement, Scott, my dresser, leaning a fluahed 
countenance against the wall of the cur, and wtepint/ /utterly. 
It was over my smashed writing-desk. Yet the arraiigenients 
for iiiggage are excellent, if the porters would not bo beyond 
doacription reckless. . , . The halls are excellent- Imagine 
One holding two thousand people, seated with exact eijuality 
fcr erery one of them, and every one seated BopBrntcly. I have 
nowhere, at home or abroad, seen so fine a police as the police 
of Xew York ; and their bearing in the streets is above all 
praise. On the other hand, the laws for regulation of public 
vehicles, clearing of streets, and removal of obstructions are 
irildly outraged by the people for whose benefit they are in- 
teodMl. Yet there is undoubtedly improvement in every 
dirMtioti, and I am taking time to make up my mind on things 
in gmeral. Lot me add that I have been tempted out at three 
ID tbo morning to visit one of the large police station-housea, 
■nd wa8 so fascinated by the study of a horrilile photograph- 
b(X>k of thieves' portraits that I could n't shut it up. 



1 got yonr aunt's last letter at Boaton yesterday, Chnitlll 
Day morning, when I wsa starting at eleven o'clock to eon 
lack to thb place. I wanted it very much, for I had a frij^ 
fnl told (English colds are uothing to those of this coun^J 
and was exceediugly depresaed and miserabie. Not that 1 ' 
tny reoaoti but illness for being so, since the Boeloniooa 
Imo quite astounding in their demonstrations. I never 
aoyihing like them on Christmas Eve. But it is a bad coi 
to be unwell and travelling to ; you are one of say & hni 
pw^le in a heated car, with a great stove in it, and lil 
little windows closed, and the hurrying and banging about 
indescribable. The atmosphere is detestable, and the niotium 
ofiw all but intolerable. However, we got our dinner here *t 
wght o'clock, and plucked up a little, and I made some hot gin 
punch to ilriiik a Morry Chrbtma:; to all ut home in. lint it 
muet ).(■ r,iif,-.M-.i tl,:il »v ^v,-n' l",t]. vltV 'lull. 1 luVt- l.-fn 

in bed all day until two o'clock, and here I am now (at thiw 
o'clock) a little better. But I am not fit to read, and I moit 
read to-night. After watching the general character pnltf 
closely, I became quite sure that Dolby was wrong on tha 
length of the stay and the number of readinga we had pn- 
posed in this place. I am quite certain that it is one of the 
national peculiarities that what they want must be difficult d 
attainment I therefore a few days ago made a emtp ^itat, 
and altered the whole scheme. We shall go to Philadelphia, 
Baltimore, Washington, also some New England towns between 
Boston and this place, away to the Falls of Niagara, and dl 
far west to Chicago and St Louis, before coming hack fa 
ten farewell re«dings here, preceded by farewells at Boston, 
leaving Canada altogether. This will not prolong the UbI 
beyond eighty-four readings, the exact original number, and will, 
please God, work it all out in April. In my next, I dan say, 
1 shall be able to send the exact list, so that yon may knoa 
every day where we are. There has been a great storm ben 
for a few days, and the streets, though wet, are becoming pum 
able again, I>olby and O^ood are out in it to-day on a vaiia^ 



of bosinees, and left in grave ami Eolemn etate. Scott and the 
gasman are stricken with dumli concern, not having received 
iui« single letter from home eince they left. What their wives 
GBD have done with the latt«rB they take it for granted they 
bav* written IB their stormy speculation at the door of my hall 
dressing-room every night. 

If I do not send a letter to Katie by this mail, it will be 
because I shall probably bo obliged to go across the water to 
Brooklyn to-morrow to see a church, in which it ia proposed 
that I ehall read I ! ! Horrible vieions of being put in the 
pulpit already beset me. And whether the audience will be 
iu pews is another conetdoration which greatly disturbs my 
tniod. No paper ever comea out without a leader on Dolby, 
who of course reads them all, and never can understand why I 
don't, in whidi he ia called all the bad names in (and not in) 

We always call him P. H. Dolby now, in consequence of one 
of these graceful specimens of literature describing him as the 
" pudding-headed." 

I fear that when we travel he will have to be always before 
net so that I may not see him six times in as many weeks. 
However, I shall have done a fourth of the whole this very 
next week I 

Best love to your aunt, and the boys, and Katie, and 
Chuley, and all true friends. 


I managed to read last night, but it was aa much as 1 could 
do. To^ay I am so very unwell, that I have sent for a 
doctor ; be has juet been, and is in doubt whether I shall not 
IwT« to slop reading for a while. 

nxriit. Miaa 

[ am getting all right again. I have not been well, been 
f low. aiid have been obliged to have a doctor ■, a'^tt^ wpwi- 
» follow iadeed, who soon turned out In \wi an ciVi Irusai. 'A 

t me on my lega and laVen. V\s ^ 

1 Dr. Furitj-M Barker. 



i to give me a call now anil 

"professionally," though he 

In the library at Gad's is a bound book, " Remarkable Ciinii- 
Inal Triulfi," translated by Lady Dutf Gordon, from the origiinl 
I by Fuuerhacli. I want that book, and a copy of Praed'a poems. 
I to lie sent out to Boston, care of Tickuor and Fields. K you 
'ill give the " Criminal Trials " to Wills, and explain iny wish, 
nd ask him to buy a copy of I'raed'a poems and add it to 
Itbe pared, he will know how to send the packet out. I think 
"Criminal Trials" book is in the comer book-«aae, by the 
I window, (ipposite the dooT. 

Liws here. All going on in the regular way. I read ia 
I that church I told you of about the miiidte of January. Il it 
ierf ally seated for two thousand people, and i« as easy to 
{ in as if they were two hundred. The people are suteil 
ews, and we let the pews. I stood on a small ptatfonu 
Bfrora which the pulpit will be removed for the occasion ! ! 1 
Bemerge from the vestty ! ! 1 Philadelphia, Baltimore, and an- 
Bother two Jiif;hta in Koston will follow this coming month of 
Bjanuary. On Friday next I Bhall have read a fourth of my 


Christmaa Day, and how you {as they say in thia country) 
"got along." It is oxceeiliagly cold here again, after two or 
throe quite spring days. 


Nkw Viirk, JuriQiry 3, ISOS. 

Wo try to withhold the beet seats from the speculators, but 
the imaiocountable thing ia that the great moss of the pnblic buy 
of them (prefer it), and the rest of the public are injured if we 
have not got those very seats to seil thorn. We have now a 
trsrelting staff of six men, in spite of which Dolby, who is 
leaving me to-day to sell tickets in Pitiludelphia to-morrow 
momlog, will no doubt get into a tempest of diOiculties. Of 
eourse also, in such a matter, as many obstacles as possible are 
thrown in an Englishman's way ; and ho may himself be a little 
iojudicioUB into the bargain. Tjast night, for iuatnuco, he met 
one of the '■ ushera " (who show people to their seats) coming in 
with one of our men. It is against ordi^rs that any one em- 
ployed in front should go out during the reading, and he took 
this man to task in the British manner. Instantly, the free 
and independent ueher put on his hat and walked off. Seeing 
which, all the other free and independent ushers (eume 20 in 
namber) put on tkeir hats and walked off ; leaving na absnliitely 
devoid and destitute of a staff for to-night. One has since been 
improvised : but it was u small matter to raise a stir and ill will 
about, especially as one of onr men was equally in fault ; and 
really there is little to lie done at night. American people are 
■o accnstumed to take care of themselves, that one of these im- 
ncnm audiences will fall into their places with an ease amazing 
t« a frequenter of St. James's Hall ; and the certainty with 
which they are all in, before I go on, is a very acceptable mark 
of respect. Our great labour ia outside ; and we have been 
oldiged to bring our staff up to sis, besides a boy or two, by em- 
pluyment of a regular additional clerk, a Bostonian. The speon- 
lators buying the front seats (we have found instances of thia 
being done by merchanta in good position), the public won't 
have the l«ck seats ; return their tickets ; writu wai\. ^vviA 
Tolonw on the subject; and deter othcre from coimn^.>^ 

toot to suppose that this prevails to any gK&t «x.XfiRCb^^Q 
bourn here baa been £300 ; but it doea Y ' 

I 294 


lo doubt about it. Fortunately I saw the (Unger when th« 

I trouble began, and changed the list at the right time. . . . Yoa 

I may get an iJi^a of the staff's work, by what is in bond dow. 

I They are pregmring, numbering, and stamping 60O0 tickets for 

I PhilailelpLia, and 8O0O tickets for Brookiyn. The moment 

lose are done, another 8000 tickets will he wanted for Balfr 

ore, and probably another 6000 for Washington ; and all this 

L addition to the correepondence, adverti^menta, accounte, 

I tcareiling, and the nightly busineas of the readings four times 

a week. ... I cannot get rid of this intolerable cold I Mjr 

I landlord invented for me a drink of brandy, rum, and snow, 

I called it a " Rocky Mountain Sneezer," and aaid it woa to put 

I down all less effectual sneezing ; but it has not yet had the 

I effect. Did I tell you that the favourite drink before you get 

is an Eye-Opener ? There haa been another fall of snow, 

I succeeded by a heavy thaw. 

Dxcv. xma iiouarth 

II Place. Jf mw Tom, 

lass HOGARTH 295 

miter to raise a stir and ill will about, especiaUy as one of our 
Ben was equally in fault. 

We have a regular clerk, a Bostonian whose name is Wild. 
fie, Osgood, Dolby, Kelly, Scott, Oeorge the gas-man, and per- 
ktp6 a boy or two, constitute my body-guard. It seems a large 
aomber of people, but the business cannot be done with fewer. 
The speculators buying the front seats to sell at a premium 
(and we have found instances of this being done by merchants 
in good position !), and the public perpetually pitching into 
Dolby for selling them back seats, the result is that they won't 
ka?e the back seats, send back their tickets, write and print 
Thames on the subject, and deter others from coming. 

You may get an idea of the stafiTs work, by what is in hand 
now. They are preparing, numbering, and stamping six thou- 
nnd tickets for Philadelphia, and eight thousand tickets for 
Brooklyn. The moment those are done, another eight thou- 
nnd tickets will be' wanted for Baltimore, and probably another 
six thousand for Washington. This in addition to the corre- 
spondence, advertisements, accounts, travellings, and the nightly 
bonness of the readings four times a week. 

The Cunard steamers being now removed from Halifax, I 
ba?e decided not to go there, or to St. John, New Bnmswick. 
And as there would be a perfect uproar if I picked out such a 
place in Canada as Quebec or Montreal, and excluded those two 
places (which would guarantee three hundred pounds a night), 
and further, as I don't want places, having more than enough 
for my list of eighty-four, I have finally resolved not to go 
to Canada either. This will enable me to embark for home in 
April instead of May. 

Tell Plom, with my love, that I think he will find himself 
much interested at that college,^ and that it is very likely he 
may make some acquaintances there that will thereafter be 
pleasant and useful to him. Sir Sydney Dacres is the best 
of friends. I have a letter from Mrs. Hulkes by this post, 
wherein the boy incloses a violet, now lying on the table before 
me. Let her know that it arrived safely, and retaining its 
colour. I took it for granted that Mary would have asked 
Chorley for Christmas Day, and am very glad she ultimately 
did so. I am sorry that Harry lost his prize, but believe it 
was not his fault. Let htm know that, with my love. I would 

1 The Agricultural College, Cirencester. 


have written to him by this mail in answer to his, but for other 
occupation. Did I tell jou that my landlord made me » drink 
(brandy, rum, and snow the principal ingredients) called a 
" Rocky mountain Sneezer " ? Or that the favonrit« drink 
before you get up ia an " eye-opener " ? Or that Roberts 
(eecond landlord) no sooner saw me on the night of the tinl 
lire, than, with his property blazing, he insisted on taking tue 
down into a roomful of hot smoke to drink brandy and water 
with him ? We have not been on fire again, by the bye, more 

There has been anotlior fall of snow, succeeded by a heavy 
thaw. I huve laid down my sledge, and taken up my carriage 
again, in consequence. I am nearly all right, but cannot get 
rid of on intolerable cold in the head. No mora news. 


Parker Hol'sb, Boston, U. 9., Januuy t, tW8. 

I write to you by this opportunity, though I really h»n 
The work is hard and the climate a 



u yet make out is, that my perfect freedom from bondage, and 
at oDj moment to go on or leave off, or otherwise do as I like, 
is the only safe position to occupy. 

Again ; there are two apparently irreconcilable contrasts here. 
Down below in this hotel every night are the bar loungers, 
diam drinkers, drunkards, swaggerers, loafers, that one might 
fi&d in a Boucicault play. Within half an hour is Cambridge, 
vheie a delightful domestic life — simple, self-respectful, cor- 
dial, and affectionate — is seen in an admirable aspect. All 
Kew England is primitive and puritanicaL All about and 
around it is a puddle of mixed human mud, with no such qual- 
ity in it. Perhaps I may in time sift out some tolerably intel- 
ligible whole, but I certainly have not done so yet. It is a 
good sign, may be, that it all seems immensely more difficult to 
miderstand than it was when I was here before. 

Felton left two daughters. I have only seen the eldest, a 
^^ sensible, frank, pleasant girl of eight-and-twenty, perhaps, 
tttber like him in the face. A striking-looking daughter of 
Bftwthome's (who is also dead) came into my room last night. 
The day has slipped on to three o'clock, and I must get up 
%mbey " for to-night. Hence this sudden break off. Best 
^T6 to Mamie, and to Katie and Charley Collins. 


New York, January 9, 1868. 

Sach evening an enormous ferry-boat will convey me and my 
^te-carriage (not to mention half a dozen wagons and any 
^Umber of people and a few score of horses) across the river to 
^tooklyn, and will bring me back again. The sale of tickets 
*liere was an amazing scene. The noble army of speculators 
^^c now furnished (this is literally true, and I am quite serious) 
^ch man with a straw mattress, a little bag of bread and meat, 
^^0 blankets, and a bottle of whiskey. With this outfit, they 
*ie doum in line on the pavement the whole of the night before 
tlie tickets are sold : generally taking up their position at about 
ten. It being severely cold at Brooklyn, they made an immense 
\x)nfire in the street — a narrow street of wooden houses — 
"Vhich the police turned out to extinguish. A general fight 
then took place ; from which the people farthest off in the line 
roshed bleeding when they saw any chance of ousting others 


nearer the door, put their mattresses in the spota so gained, and 
held on by the iron rails. At 8 in the moTning Dolby appeared 
with the tickets in a portmanteau. He was immediately sduted 
with a roar of "Halloa! I>olbyt" " So Charley has let you 
have the carriage, baa be, Dolby ? " " How is he, Dolby ? " 
"Don't drop the tickets, Dolby!" "Look alive, Dolby!" 
etc., etc., etc., in tbe midst of which he proceeded to business, 
and concluded (as usual) by giving universal dissatisfHctioo. He 
is now going olf upon a little journey to look over tbe ground 
and cut back again. This little journey (to Chicago) is twein 
hundred miles on end, by railway, besides tbe back again ! 


WbsIHiksteb Hotbl, Niw Tosk, 
Sunday, JuiuRr> 12, lB£g. 

Mt dear Wilkie, — First, of the play.' 1 am truly dt- 
lighted to learn tlmt it made so great a succe-ss, and I hopa 1 
may yet see it on the Adelphi boards. You have had a world 
of trouble and work with it, but I hope will be repaid in some 


play it. IJnto which he replied, that he meant to play it and 
would play it. Of course he knew very well that if an injunc- 
tion were applied for against him, there would he an immediate 
howl against my persecution of an innocent, and he played it. 
Then the nohle host of pirates rushed in, and it is heing done, 
in some mangled form or other, everywhere. 

It touches me to read what you write of your poor mother. 
But, of course, at her age, each winter counts heavily. Do give 
her my love, and tell her that I asked you ahout her. 

I am going on here at the same great rate, hut am always 
ooonting the days that lie between me and home. I got 
through the first fourth of my readings on Friday, January 3. 
I leave for two readings at Philadelphia this evening. 

Being at Boston last Sunday, I took it into my head to go 

over the medical school, and survey the holes and comers in 

which that extraordinary murder was done by Webster. There 

was the furnace — stinking horribly, as if the dismembered 

pieces were still inside it — and there are all the grim spouts, 

uid sinks, and chemical appliances, and what not. At dinner, 

afterwards, Longfellow told me a terrific story. He dined with 

Webster within a year of the murder, one of a party of ten or 

twelve. As they sat at their wine, Webster suddenly ordered 

Ae lights to be turned out, and a bowl of some burning mineral 

^ be placed on the table, that the guests might see how ghostly 

it made them look. As each man stared at all the rest in the 

Weird light, all were horrified to see Webster with a rope round 

his neck, holding it up, over the bowl, with his head jerked on 

one side, and his tongue lolled out, representing a man being 

hanged ! 

Poking into his life and character, I find (what I would have 
staked my head upon) that he was always a cruel man. 
So no more at present from, 

My dear Wilkie, yours ever affectionately. 


Westminster Hotkl, New York, 
Sunday, January 12, 1868. 

As I am ofiT to Philadelphia this evening, I may as well post 
my letter here. I have scarcely a word of news. My cold 
steadily refuses to leave me \ but otherwise I am as right as 



one can hope to be under this heavy work. My New York 
readings are over (except four farewell nights in April), aad I 
look forward to the relief of heiiig aut of my hardest halL 
Last Friday night, though it was only " Nicklehy " and 
" Boots," I was again dead beat at the end, and wa^ once moie 
laid upon a t^ofa. But the faiutnesR went off after a litUt 
whiln. We have now cold, bright, frosty weather, without 
snow — the beat weather for me. 

Having been in great trepidation about the play, I am cone- 
apondingly elated by the belief that it really t» a euccesa. No 
doulit the unnecessary explanations will have been taken oat, 
and the HatDcss of the last act fetched up. At eome points I 
could have done wondera to it, in the way of screwing it up 
sharply, and picturesquely, if I could have rehearsed it. Your 
account of the first night interested me immensely, hut I vta 
afraid to open the letter until I>o!by rushed in with the opened 
" Times." 

On Wednewlay I come back here for my four church read- 
ingB at Brooklyn. Each evening an enormous ferry-boat will 
ly stal«-carriBge (not to mention half a do/en 


He is now going off upon a little journey '^ to look over the 
ground and cut back again.'' This little journey (to Chicago) 
is fifteen hundred miles on end, by railway, and back again ! 

We have an excellent gas-man, who is well up to that 
department. We have enlarged the large staff by another 
elerk; yet even now the preparation of such an immense num- 
ber of new tickets constantly, and the keeping and checking of 
the accoimts, keep them hard at it. And they get so oddly 
divided! Kelly is at Philadelphia, another man at Baltimore, 
tvo others are stamping tickets at the top of this house, another 
is cruising over New England, and Osgood will come on duty 
t(HDorrow (when Dolby starts o£F) to pick me up after the read- 
ing, and take me to the hotel, and mount guard over me, and 
bring me back here. You see that even such wretched domes- 
ticity as Dolby and self by a fireside is broken up under these 

Dolby has been twice poisoned, and Osgood once. Morgan's 
tbaipness has discovered the cause. When the snow is deep 
^n the ground, and the partridges cannot get their ususd 
fcod, they eat something (I don't know what, if anybody does) 
which does not poison them, but which poisons the people who 
«it them. The symptoms, which last some twelve hours, are 
violent sickness, cold perspiration, and the formation of some 
detestable mucus in the stomach. You may infer that partridges 
bare been banished from our bill of fare. The appearance of 
oar sufferers was lamentable in the extreme. 

Did I tell you that the severity of the weather and the heat 
of the intolerable furnaces dry the hair and break the nails of 
strangers ? There is not a complete nail in the whole British 
soite, and my hair cracks again when I brush it. (I am losing 
my hair with great rapidity, and what I don't lose is getting 
ycry grey.) 

The Cuba will bring this. She has a jolly new captain — 
lioody, of the Java — and heV people rushed into the reading, 
ibe other night, captain-headed, as if I were their peculiar prop- 
erty. Please God, I shall come home in her, in my old cabin ; 
eaving here on the 22d of April, and finishing my eighty-fourth 
leading on the previous night I It is likely enough that I shall 
?ead and go straight on board. 

I think this is all my poor stock of intelligence. By the 
tjye, cm the last Sunday in the old year, I lost my old year's 

», ' H 1 ^ 


pockei-lxxd^ '' whidi,'' as Mr. Tepjn would mid, «do <^^^ 
me miglitily.'' Qtrt me Katie's new adiliMi ; I hif^ ^ 
goi it 


I write yoa this note, a daj later tiian your amf % vd 
becanae I have anytbiiig to add to Hbe little I haTe toU iMff 
bat becanae joa may like to have it. 

We arrived here last night towards twelve o'doek, man tfaa 
an hoar after our time. This is one of the immense Anerien 
hotels (it is called the Continental) ; bat I find myself jwi m 
qaiet here as elsewhere. Everything iB very good indeed, ths 
waiter is German, and the greater part of tiie hoase serruli 
seem to be colourod people. The town is very dean, and tti 
day as blue and bright as a fine Italian day. Bat it tntm 
very hard. All the tickets being sold here for six nights (ttm 
visits of two nights each), the suite complain of want of cxeil^ 
ment already, having been here ten houra! Mr. and Ma. 
Barney Williams, with a couple of servants, and e pretty little 
child-daughter, were in the train each nighty and I talked witt 
them a good deal. They are reported to have made an uaoh 
mous fortune by acting among the Galifomian gold-diggKi. 
My cold IB no better, for the cars are so intolerably hot thai I 
was often obliged to go and stand upon the brake outside, and 
then the frosty air was biting indeed. The great man of this 
place is one Mr. Childs, a newspaper proprietor, and he is so 
exactly like Mr. Esse in all conceivable respects except bexog 
nn inch or so toller, that I was quite confounded when I saw 
him waiting for me at the station (always called depOt here) 
with his carriage. During the last two or three days, Dolby and 
I have been making up accounts, which are excellently kept 
by Mr. Osgood, and I find them amazing, quite, in their resulte. 

I was very much interested in the home accounts of ChrisW 
mas Day. I think I have already mentioned that we were in 
very low spirits on that day. I began to be onwell with my 
cold that morning, and a long day's travel did not mend the 
matter. We scarcely spoke (except when we ate our lunch), 
and sat dolefully staring out of window. I had a few affection- 
ate words from Chorley, dated from my room, on Christmas 
morning, and will write him, probably by this mail, e brief 


acknowledgment. I find it necessary (so oppressed am I with 
this American cutarrh, as they call it) to dine at three o'clock 
instead of four, that I may have more time to get voice., so that 
the days are cut abort, and letter-writing is not easy. 

My best love to Katie, and to Charley, and to our Charley, 
and t« all fripndH. If I could only get to tho point of being 
able to bold my head up and ilispenBo with ray pocket-handker- 
chief for five minutes, I should be all ngbt. 


Wkbthitister Hotei, Ibviho Place, New Tonit, 

Wednendsy, Junnii; 16, ISHg. 

My DKAR Charley, — Finding your letter here this after- 
BOOO on my return from Philadelphia (where I have been read- 
ing two nights), I take advaiitagfl of a spare half hour in which 
to answer it at once, though it will not leave here until Satur- 
day. I hod previooaly heard of the play, and had " The Times." 
It was a great relief and delight to rae, for I had no confidence 
in its success, being reduced to the confines of despuir by its 
length. If I could have rehearsed it, I should bave taken the 
be«t part of an hour out of it. Fccht«r must be very fine, and 
I should greatly like to see him play the part. 

I have not been very well generally, and am oppressed (and 
I begin to think that I probably fhall !» until I leave) by a 
troe American cold, wbicli I hope, for the comfort of human 
nature, may be peculiar to only one of the four qnartors of the 
world. The work, too, is very severe. But I am going on at 
the same tremendous rate everywhere. The staff, too, has had 
to be enlarged. Dolby was at Baltimore yesterday, is at Wnah- 
ttlgton tf>-t\iiy, and will come back in the night, and start away 
again on Friday. We find it absolutely necessary for him to go 
•m ahead. We bave not printed or posted a single bill here, 
and bnve jiiat sold ninety pounds' worth of paper we had got 
Riady for bills. In such a rush a short newspaper advertise- 
ratai is all we want. " Doctor Marigold '' made a great hit 
here, ami is looked forward t« at Boston with especial interest. 
1 f^ to Bost^on for another fortnight, on end, the 24tti r\Yo\i- 
Mary. The railway jonmeys distress me giealXj. \ ^it\. ckA 
^"Iptoe apea air (upon the brake), and it 8i\0'w& in4\iVQ"«%,« 
'i bumps, aad the eteam flies at me, uiiUA \ aTtv AAdT 


I have fmished here (except four farewell nigfatB in April), 
and begin four nights at Brooklyn, on the opposite side of tlii 
river, to-night ; and thus oscillate between Philadelphia, Balti- 
more, and Washington, and then cut into New England, and m 
work my way back to Boston for a fortnight, after which come 
Chicago, Cincinnati, Detroit, and Cleveland and Buffalo, aod 
then Philadelphia, Boston, and New York farewells. I will 
not pass my original bound of eighty-four readings in all. Mj 
mind was made up as to that long ago. It will be quite enough. 
Chicago is some fifteen hundred miles from here. What with 
travelling, and getting ready for reading, and reading, the dtp 
are pretty fully occupied. Not the less so because I rest veiy 
indifferently at night. 

The people are exceedingly kind and considerate, and dean 
to be most hospitable besides. But I cannot accept hospitality, 
and never go out, except at Boston, or I should not be fit for 
the labour. If Dolby holds out well to the last it will he a tri- 
umph, for he has to see everybody, drink with everybody, seU 
all the tickets, take all the blame, and go beforehand to all the 
places on the list. I shall not see him after to-night for t^n 
days or a fortnight, and he will be perpetually on the road dur- 
ing the interval. When he leaves me, Osgood, a partner in 
Ticknor and Fields' publishing firm, mounts guard over me, and 
has to go into the hall from the platform door every night, and 
see how the pu])lic are seating themselves. It is very odd to 
see how hard he finds it to look a couple of thousand people in 
the face, on which head, by the bye, I notice the papers to take 
" Mr. Dickens's extraordinary composure " (their great phrase) 
rather ill, and on the whole to imply that it would be taken as 
a suitable compliment if I would stagger on to the platform and 
instantly drop, overpowered by the spectacle before me. 

Dinner is announced (by Scott, with a stiff neck and a sore 
tliroat), and I must break off with love to Bessie and the incip- 
ient Wenerablesses. You will be glad to hear of your distin- 
guished parent that Philadelpliia has discovered tliat " he is not 
like the descriptions we have read of him at the little red desk. 
He is not at all foppish in appearance. He wears a heavy 
moustache and a Vandyke beard, and looks like a well-to-do 
Philadelphia gentleman.'' 

Ever, my dear Charley, your affectionate father. 


P. S. — Your paper is remarkably good. There is not the 
least donbt that you can write constantly for " A. Y. K^' I 
mm very pleased with it. 


Wkstminstbb Hotsi^ Nbw York, 
Friday, January 18, 1868. 

This will be but a very short report, as I must get out for a 
little exercise before dinner. 

My "true American catarrh" (the people seem to have a 
oitional pride in it) sticks to me, but I am otherwise well. I 
b^an my church readings last night, and it was very odd to see 
the pews crammed full of people, all in a broad roar at the 
"Carol " and " Trial." 

Best love to all. I have written Charley a few lines by this 
Bttdl, and also Chorley. 


Westminster Hotel, New Tork, 
Tuesday, January 21, 1868. 

I finished my church to-night. It is Mrs. Stowe's brother's, 
tod a most wonderful place to speak in. We had it enormously 
fall last night (" Marigold '^ and " Trial "), but it scarcely re- 
qoiied an effort. Mr. Ward Beecher (Mrs. Stowe's brother's 
name) being present in his pew, I sent to invite him to come 
loand before he left ; and I found him to be an unostentatious, 
straightforward, and agreeable fellow. 

My cold sticks to me, and I can scarcely exaggerate what I 
sometimes undergo from sleeplessness. The day before yester- 
day I could get no rest until morning, and could not get up 
before twelve. This morning the same. I rarely take any 
breakfast but an egg and a cup of tea, not even toast or bread 
and butter. My dinner at three, and a little quail or some such 
light thing when I come home at night, is my daily fare. At 
the Hall I have established the custom of taking an egg beaten 
up in sherry before going in, and another between the parts. I 
think that pulls me up; at all events, I have since had no 
letom of faintness. 

As the men work very hard, and always with their hearts 


cheerfully in the bosmess, I cram them into and outside of 
carriage, to bring them back from Brooklyn with me. 
other night, Scott (with a portmanteau across his knees and 
wide-awake hat low down upon his nose) told me that he 
presented himself for admission in the circus (as good as F 
coni's, by the bye), and had been refused. " The only theayter,^ 
he said in a melancholy way, '' as I was ever in my life tunwi^ 
from the door of." Says Kelly : " There must have been 8omi 
mistake, Scott, because George and me went, and we said, 'Ml 
Dickens's staff,' and they passed us to the best seats in ths 
house. Go again, Scott." "No, I thank you, Kelly," aiyi 
Scott, more melancholy than before, " I 'm not a going to pot 
myself in the position of being refused again. It 's the onlj 
theayter as I was ever turned from the door of, and it sha'n^ 
be done twice. But it 's a beastly country I " " Scott," inte^ 
posed Majesty, " don't you express your opinions about tht 
country." " No, sir," says Scott, " I never do, please, sir, but | 
when you are turned from the door of the only theayter yott 
was ever turned from, sir, and when the beasts in railway can 
spits tobacco over your boots, you (privately) find yourself in a 
beastly country." 

I expect sliortly to get myself snowed up on some railway 
or otiier, for it is snowing haixl now, and I begin to move to- 
morrow. There is so much floating ice in the river that we 
are obliged to leave a pretty wide margin of time for getting 
over the ferry to read. The dinner is coming in, and I must 
leave oiF. 


Philadelphia, Thursday, .January 23, 186S. 

When I wrote to your aunt bv the la^^t mail, T acciilentallv 
omitted to touch uj>on the question of helping Anne. So I will 
In^gin ill this present writing with reference to her sad position. 
1 think it will In? l)est for you to he guided by an exact know- 
leilge of luT wtrnfs. Try to ascertain from herself what means 
she has, wliether her sick huslxiud gets what he ought to have, 
whether she is pinched in the articles of necessary clothing. 
Ixnlding, or the like of that ; add to this intelligence your ^^wn 
observation of the state of things about her, and supply what 
she most wants, and help her wliere you find the greatest uf^nL 
The question, in the case of so old and faithful a servant, is not 


of 80 much or so little money on my side, but how most 
efficiently to ease lier mind and help her. To do this at once 
kindly and sensibly is the only consideration by which you 
have to be guided. Take carte blanche from me for all the 


My Washington week is the first week in February, begin- 
■dng on Monday, 3d. The tickets are sold, and the President 
Is coming, and the chief members of the Cabinet, and the leaders 
<xf parties, and so forth, are coming; and, as the Holly-Tree 
Boots says : " That 's where it is, don't you see ! " 

In my Washington doubts I recalled Dolby for conference, 
and he joined me yesterday afternoon, and we have been in 
great discussion ever since on the possibility of giving up the 
Ear West, and avoiding such immense distances and fatigues as 
would be involved in travelling to Chicago and Cincinnati. We 
bave sketched another tour for the last half of March, which 
would be infinitely easier for me, though on the other hand less 
profitable, the places and the halls being smaller. The worst 
of it is, that everybody one advises with has a monomania 
respecting Chicago. "Good heaven, sir,'' the great Philadel- 
phian authority said to me this morning, " if you don't read in 
Chicago, the people will go into fits." In reference to fatigue, 
I answered : " Well, I would rather they went into fits than I 
did." But he did n't seem to see it at all. alone con- 
stantly writes me : " Don't go to the West ; you can get what 
you want so much more easily." How we shall finally decide, 
I don't yet know. My Brooklyn church has been an immense 
success, and I found its minister was a bachelor, a clever, 
unparsonic, and straightforward man, and a man with a good 
knowledge of art into the bargain. 

We are not a bit too soon here, for the whole country is 
beginning to be stirred and shaken by the presidential election, 
and trade is exceedingly depressed, and will be more so. Fanny 
Kemble lives near this place, but had gone away a day before 
my first visit here. She is going to read in February or March. 
Du Chaillu has been lecturing out West about the gorilla, and 
has been to see me ; I saw the Cunard steamer Persia out in 
the stream, yesterday, beautifully smart, her flags flying, all her 
steam up, and she only waiting for her mails to slip away. She 
gave me a horrible touch of home-sickness. 

When the let of March arrives, and I can say " next month," 


I shall begin to grow brighter. A fortnight's reading iP '"'jj^B^ 
too (last week of February and first week of Maidi)i wfll 
me on gaily, I hope (the work so far off tells). It ii i 
for two people to be more affectionately attached to s iM 
really believe, than Fields and his wife are to me ; and thQ 
a landmark in the prospect. 

Dolby sends kindest regards, and wishes it to be knowiM 
he has not been bullied lately. We do m4 go West it dl,VA 
take the easier plan. 


As I have an hour to spare, before starting to rhiladnlpMit 
I begin my letter this morning. It has been snowing haidki 
four-and-twenty hours, though this place is as far sooUi is 
Yalentia in Spain ; and Dolby, being on his way to New ToA, 
has a good chance of being snowed up somewhere. 

They are a bright, responsive people here, and very plessnt 
to read to. I have rarely seen so many fine laces in an anfr 
ence. I read here in a charming little opera-house built by a 
society of Crermans, quite a delightful place for the porpoee. 
I stand on the stage, with a drop-curtain down, and my sereea 
before it. The whole scene is very pretty and complete, and 
the audience have a " ring " in them that sounds in the ear. 
I go from here to Philadelphia to read to-morrow night and 
Friday, come through here again on Saturday on my way to 
Washington, come back here on Saturday week for two finish- 
ing nights, then go to Philadelphia for two farewells, and so 
turn my back on the southern part of the country. Distances 
and travelling have obliged us to reduce the list of readings by 
two, leaving eighty-two in all. Of course we afterwards dis- 
covered that we had finally settled the list on a Friday ! I 
shall l>e halfway through it at Washington, of course, on a 
Friday also, and my birthday ! 

Dolby and Osgood, who do the most ridiculous things to keep 
me in spirits (I am often very heavy, and rarely sleep much), 
have decided to have a walking-match at Boston, on Satur- 
day, February 29th. Beginning this design in joke, they have 
become tremendously in earnest, and Dolby has actually sent 
home (much to his opponent's terror) for a pair of seamless 


socks to walk in. Oar men are hugely excited on the Bubject, 
aod oontinuuUy make bets on "the men." Fields and I are to 
walk out sis miles, and " the men " are to turn and walk round 
ua. Neither of them has the least idea what twelve miles at a 
pace ia. Being requested by both to give them ''a breather" 
yesterday, I gave them a atiff one of five miles over a bad road 
io the snow, half the distance up hill. I took them at a pace 
of fonr miles and a half an hour, and you never beheld such 
objects as they were when we got back ; both smoking like 
foclories, and both obliged to change everything before they 
could come to dinner. They have the absurde-st ideas of what 
are testa of walking power, and continually get up in the ma<I- 
dest manner and see how high they can kiek the wall ! The 
wainscot here, in one place, is scored all over with their pcncil- 
utarks. To see them doing this — Dolby, a big man, and 
Osgood, a very little one — is ridiculous beyond description. 

Piiii.«oei.i'tn«. SameNighL 

We came on here through a snow-Btorm all Iha way, but up to 

time. Fanny Kemble (who liegiiis to read ahottly) is coming 

to '* Marigold " and " Trial " to-morrow night. I have written 

note, telling her that if it will at all assist /ler movements 

nifts, my list is at her service. Probably I shall see 

rrow. Tell Mamie (to whom I will write next), with 

that I found her letter of the 10th of this month 

me here. The Siberia that brought it, ia a new 

ir, and made an unusually alow passage out. Probably 

it would be dangerous to work new machinery too fast 


Tbunity Stub. 

eold atill sticks to me. The beat of the railway cars 

unventilated condition invariably brings it back when 

it going. This morning my head is aa stuffed and 

ta ever [ A. superb sledge and four horses have been 

ma for B ride, hut I am afraid to take it, lest I should 

the " true American catarrh " worse, and should g«t 

1 am going to give Osgood another ■' breather " on 

|t commttniatthn with New York is i\(A inVerni'^WX, 
r tb« BenloiiB Dolby all right. You maj itiwi.gvuft 
1*^ wAen you hear that he goes three Umeft U» 


plaee we Tint. FiraUjy to lock at tiie hall, anange tb^/ 
beringSy and make five hundred anqnaintancwa^ whma 10 ^ 
diatelj calls bj their Christian names; aeoondlj, to 9^ 
tickets — a yeiy nice businesB, requiring great tact and 
tiuidly, with me. He will probaUj torn up at Wi 
next Sunday, but only for a little while ; for as aoon ai I 
on the platform on Monday night, he will start away 
probably to be seen no more until we pass through New Tl 
in the middle of Februaiy. 


BALTmoaa, WedBCMUy, JamafyM^Uli 

Mt deab Castwsight, — As I promised to report 
to you from this side of the Atlantic, and as I have some 
this morning, I am going to lighten my conscienoe by 
my word. 

I am going on at a great pace and with immense 
Next week, at Washington, I shall, please Crod, hate 
through half my readings. The remaining half are all 
and they will cany me into the third week of ApriL It is imft 
hard work, but it is brilliantly paid. The changes that I ial 
in the country generally (this place is the least changed of lay 
I have yet seen) excecKi my utmost expectations. I had beaa 
in New York a couple of days before I began to recognise it it 
all ; and the handsomest part of Boston was a black swamp 
when I saw it five-and-twenty years ago. Considerable ad- 
vances too, have been made socially. Strange to say, the rail* 
ways and railway arrangements (both exceedingly defectiTe) 
seem to have stood still while all the other things have been 

One of the most comical spectacles I have ever seen in my 
life was " church," with a heavy sea on, in the saloon of the 
Cunard steamer coming out. The officiating minister, an ex- 
tremely modest young man, was brought in between two big 
stewards, exactly as if he were coming up to the scratch in a 
prize-fight. The ship was rolling and pitching so, that the two 
big stewards had to stop and watch their opportunity of making 
a dart at the reading-desk with their reverend charge, during 
which pause he held on, now by one steward and now by the 
other, with the feeblest expression of countenance and no legs 



whatever. At length they made n dart at the wrong moment, 
and one steward was immediately beheld alone in the extreme 
nerepective, while the other and the reverend gentlemau held 
on by the mant in the middle of the saloon — which the latter 
embraced with both sitob, ns if it were his wife. All this time 
the congregation was breaking up into sects and sliding away ; 
every §eot (aa in nature) pounding the other sect. And when 
at last the reverend gentleman had been tumbled into bis place, 
.^leak (a loose one, put upon the diniug-table) deserted from 
" lurdi bodily, and went over to the purser. The scone waa 
lordinarily ridiculous, and was made ao much more so by 
implary gravity of all concerned in it, that I was obliged 
to ieaVB bi'foro the service began. 

This ifl one of the places where Butler carried it with an high 
a hand in the war, and where the ladies used to spit when they 
passed a Northern soldier. It still wears, I fancy, a look of 
eullen remembrance. (The ladies are remarkably handsome, 
with on Eastern look upon them, drees with a strong sense of 
oolour, and make a brilliant audience,) The ghost of slavery 
hsants the houses ; and the old, untidy, incapable, lounging, 
shambling black serves yr>u as a free man. Free of course he 
~il to be; but the stupendous absurdity of making him a 
glares out of every roll of his eye, stretch of his mouth, 
imp of his bead. I have a strong impression tliat the 
Lost fade out of the States very fast. It never can hold 
against a striving, restless, shifty people. In the peni- 
here, the other day, in a room full of all blacks (too 
dull to be taught ony of the work in hand), was one young 
bruoding fellow, very like a black rhinoceros. He sat glowering 
at life, aa if it were just endurable at dinner-time, until four of 
his fellonrs began to sing, most un melodiously, a part song. 
He then set up a dismal howl, and pounded his face on a form. 
I took him Id have t>een rendered quite desperate by having 
iMUnt anything. I send my kind regard to Mrs. Cartwright, 
and «incer«ly hope that she and you have no now family dis- 
tisasra or anxieties. My standing address is the Westminster 
Hot«], Irving Place, Now York City. 

And I am always, my dear Cart^mght, 



PhtLai>elfhu, Vridsy, Janurj 31, IB86. 

Since writing to your aunt I have received yours of the 7th, 
and am truly glad to have the last news of you contiTnied by 

From a letter Wilkio has written to me, it seems there can 
be no doubt that the "Xo Thoroughfare" drama is a real, 
genutue, and gieat success. It is drawing immensely, and 
seems to " go " with great effect and applause. 

" Doctor Marigold ■" here last night (tor the first time) w» 
an immense success, and all Philadelphia is going to rush at 
once for tickets for the two Philadelphian farewells the week 
after noxtv The tickets are to be sold to-morrow, and great 
excitement is anticipated in the streets, Dolby not being here, 
a clerk will sell, and will probably wish himself dead before hs 
hoe done with it. 

It appears to me that Chorley writes to you on the legacy 
question because he wishes you to understand that there is no 
danger of his changing his mind, and at the bottom I descry an 
honest desire to pledge himself aa strongly as possible. You 
may recfive it in that better .ipiril, or I Mm much mistaken. 
Tell your aunt, with my best love, that I wrote to Chauncey 
weeks ago, in answer to a letter from him. I am now going 
out in a sleigh (and four) with unconceivable dignity and 
grandeur ; mentioning which reminds me that I am informed 

by trusty scouts that intends to waylay me at Washington, 

and may even descend upon me in the train to-morrow. 

Best love to Katie, the two Charleys, and alL 


Wasringtoh, TuMd*r, FebnuTj 4, IMS. 
I began here last n%ht with great success. The hall being 
small, the prices were mised to three dollars each ticket. The 
audience was a superior one, composed of the foremost public 
men and their families. At the end of the " Carol " they gava 
a great break out, and applauded, I really believe, for five min- 
utes. You would suppose them to be Manchester shillinga 
instead of Washington half-wvereigna. Immense enthosium. 

A devoted adherent in this place (an Engiisbman) had rep- 
resented to Dolby that if I were taken to an hotel here it 
would be impossible to secure me a minute's rest, and he under- 
toot to get one Wheleker, a German, who keeps a little Vt?rej's, 
to furnish his private dining-rooms for the illustriouB traveller's 
reception. Accordingly here we are, on the tirat and second 
floor of a small house, with no one else in it hut our people, a 
French waiter, and a very good French cuiiine. Perfectly pri- 
vate, in the city of all the world (I should say) where the hotels 
are intolerable, and privacy the least possible, and quite com- 
fortable. '' Wheleker'a Restaurant " is our rather undignified 
address for the present week. 

I dined (against my rules) with Charles Sumner on Sunday, 
he having been an old friend of mine. Mr. Secretary Stanton 
(War Minister) was there. He is a man of a very remarkable 
memory, and famous for his acquaintance with the minutest 
details of my books. Give him any passage anywhere, and he 
will instantly cap it and go on with the context. He was com- 
mander-in-cliief of uU the Northern forces concentrated here, 
and never wont to sleep at night without first reading some- 
thing from my books, which were always with him. I put 1dm 
through a pretty severe examination, but he was better up than 
I was. 

The gas was very defective indeed last night, and I began 
with a small speech, to the effect that I must trust to the bright- 
iieas of their faces for the illumination of mine ; this was taken 
greatly. In the " Carol," a most ridiculous incident occurred 
all of a fiudden. I saw a dog look out from among the seats 
into the centra aisle, and look very intently at me. Tlie gen- 
eral attention being hxed on me, I don't think anybody saw the 
dog; but I felt so sure of bis turniug up again and barking, 
that I kept my eye wandering about in search of him. He was 
a very comic dog, and it was well for me that I was reading a 
very comic part of the hook. But when he liounced out into 
the centre aisle again, in an entirely new place (still looking 
Intently at me), and tried the effect of a bark upon my pro- 
CL-edings, I was seized with such a paroxysm of laughter, that 
it communicated itself to the audience, and w« touiA ^V> wi& 
another loud and long. 

I i'resiiJtmt ban soot to me twice, e,nd 1 am ?pm% V* ' 
^morrow. He has a whole row iot tua laavii 


night. Dolby rejoined his chief yesterday morning, and will 
probably remain in the august presence until Sunday night 
He and Osgood, " training for the match," are ludicrous beyond 
belief. I saw them just now coming up a street, each trying 
to pass the other, and immediately fled. Since I have been 
writing this, they have burst in at the door and sat down on 
the floor to blow. Dolby is now writing at a neighbouring 
table, with his bald head smoking as if he were on fire. Kelly 
(his great adherent) asked me, when he was last away, whether 
it was quite fair that I should take Mr. Osgood out for '' breath- 
ers" when Mr. Dolby had no such advantage. I begin to 
expect that half Boston will turn out on the 29th to see the 
match. In which case it will be unspeakably drolL 


Washington, February 4, 1868. 

You may like to have a line to let you know that it is all 
right here, and that the croakers were simply ridiculous. I 
began last night. A charming audience, no dissatisfaction 
whatever at the raised prices, nothing missed or lost, cheers at 
the end of the " Carol," and rounds upon roimds of applause all 
through. All the foremost men and their families had taken 
tickets for the series of four. A small place to read in. i£300 
in it. ... I am going to-morrow to see the President, who 
has sent to me twice. I dined with Charles Sumner last Sun- 
day, against ray rule ; and as I had stipulated for no party, Mr. 
Secretary Stanton was the only other guest, besides his own 
secretary. Stanton is a man with a very remarkable memory, 
and extraordinarily familiar with ray books. . . . He and Sum- 
ner having been the first two public men at the dying Presi- 
dent's bedside, and having remained with hira until he breathed 
his last, we fell into a very interesting conversation after dinner, 
when, each of them giving his ONvn narrative separately, the 
usual discrepancies about details of time were observable. Then 
Mr. Stanton told rae a curious little story which will form the 
remainder of this short letter. 

On the afternoon of the day on which the President was shot, 
there was a cabinet council at which he presided. Mr. Stanton, 
being at the time commander-in-chief of the Northern troops 
that were concentrated about here, arrived rather late. Indeed, 


they were waiting for him, and on his entering the room, the 
President broke off in something he was saying, and remarked : 
"Let US proceed to business, gentlemen/' Mr. Stanton then 
noticed, with great surprise, that the President sat with an air 
of dignity in his chair instead of' lolling about it in the most 
ungainly attitudes, as his invariable custom was ; and that in- 
stead of telling irrelevant or questionable stories, he was grave 
and calm, and quite a different man. Mr. Stanton, on leaving 
the council with the Attorney General, said to him, " That is 
the most satisfactory cabinet meeting I have attended for many 
a long day ! What an extraordinary change in Mr. Lincoln ! " 
The Attorney General replied, " We all saw it, before you came 
in. While we were waiting for you, he said, with his chin 
down on his breast, * Gentlemen, something very extraordinary 
is going to happen, and that very soon.' " To which the 
Attorney General had observed, " Something good, sir, I hope ? '' 
when the President answered very gravely : " I don't know ; I 
don't know. But it will happen, and shortly too I " As they 
were all impressed by his manner, the Attorney General took 
him up again : " Have you received any information, sir, not 
yet disclosed to us ? " " No," answered the President ; " but I 
have had a dream. And I have now had the same dream 
three times. Once, on the night preceding the Battle of Bull 
Bun. Once, on the night preceding," such another (naming a 
battle also not favourable to the North). His chin sank on his 
breast again, and he sat reflecting. '' Might one ask the nature 
of this dream, sir ? " said the Attorney Greneral. " Well," re- 
plied the President, without lifting his head or changing his 
attitude, " I am on a great broad rolling river — and I am in a 
boat — and I drift — and I drift ! — But this is not business " — 
8udde;}ly raising his face and looking round the table as Mr. 
Stanton entered, — "let us proceed to business, gentlemen." 
Mr. Stanton and the Attorney General said, as they walked 
on together, it would be curious to notice whether anything 
ensued on this ; and they agreed to notice. He was shot that 


Washington, Febniary 5, 1868. 

My deab Sir, — Allow me to thank you most cordially for 
your kind letter^ and for its accompanying books. I have a 


particular love for buoka of travel, and ehall wander into tb« 
" Wilds of Anicrica '' with great interest. I have also received 
your charming sketch with great pleasure and admiration. Let 
me thank you for it h'-nrtily. As a beautiful suggestion of 
Datum tMnnciated with this country, it shall have a quiet place 
on thd walU of niy houm as long ax I live. 

Your tufereni;^ to iny dear friend Washington Ining renews 
tliu vivid impreaaiona reawakened in my mind at Baltimore the 
other day. I saw hia line face for the last time in that city, 
lie cnmo there from New York to pass a day or two with me 
hcfoHi I went westwordd, and they were made among the most 
menuirahlo of my life hy his delightful fancy and genial 
hunuiur. 8onio unknown admirer of his books and mine sent 
U> the hotel n moat enormous mint-julep, wreathed with flowers. 
Wo ni, one on either aide of it, with (treat aoleronity (it filled a 
m<ipeotnblG-eized paper), hut the solemnity was of very short 
duration, It waa quit^ an enchanted julep, and carried us 
lunong innumcralilo people and pincea that we both knew. The 
Julep hold out fur into the night, and my memory never saw 
him nft'-rwarl olhr-rwi*.' Hum ii- l-'odiiti; "''or i!, ^vilh hi« 
■traw, «tlli iin ;illi'iiijit..l y;.iMlv ' 'ifl' r - rii- r- ■■ i ■:■■, -i'- Iving 

■ome wonderfiUly dioU and delicate observation of character), 
•nd then, M hia eyes caught mine, melting into that captivating 
Uugh of his which was the brightest and beet I hare ever 
hoaid. Dear Sir, with many thanks, faithfully yours. 


WAaHiNGTOS, Ffbrnir; T, tSBS. 

This Bcrtmhling ecribblement is irsumed this morning, be- 
Muae I have just seen the Piesident, who had sent to me vety 
MurteoHaly asking me (o make my own appointment. He ia a 
man with a remarkable face, indicating courage, walchfulneso, and 
eertiunly stnngth of purpose. It is a face of the Webeter type, 
b«t without the " bounce " of Webst«r'a face, I would hav« 
pickM him ont anywhere aa a character of mark. Figure, ratlier 
stoulish for an .\merican ; a trifle under the middle sire ; battds 
clrtsprtl in front of him ; manner, suppreissed, guarded, anxious. 
Kadi of us looked at the other very hard. ... It was in his 
own cabinet that 1 saw him. As I ome aw»y, Thornton drove 
up in a aleigh — tinted out for a EUt« occasion — to deliv«r 

hU credentials. There was to be a cabinet council at twelve. 
The loom was very like a London club's ant«-drawing-rooiu. 
On the wuUb, two engravings only : one, of hia own portrait ; 
one, of Lincoln's. ... In the outer room waa aitting a certain 
Bunbiirnt General Blair, with many evidences of the war upon 
him. He got up to shake bands with me, and then I found 
that he had been out on the prairie with me live-and-twenty 
years ago. . . . The papers having referred to my birthday's 
falling to-day, ray room ia filled with most exquisite flowers. 
They came pouring in from all sorts of people at hreakfaet-time. 
The audiences here are really very fine. Bo ready to laugh or 
cry, and doing both ho freely, that you would suppose them to 
be Manchester shillings rather tlmu Washington ho If -aove reigns. 
Alaa! alasl my cold worse than ever. 


Washisotoh, mv Birthday, 1B88. 
(And niy cold wor»lh.Devef.) 

ill he hut a short letter, as I have been to see the 
President this morning, and have little time before the post goes. 
He had sent a gentleman to me, most courteously begging me 
to make ray own appointment, and I did so. A man of very 
remarkable appearance indeed, of tremendoua firmness of pur- 
pose. Not to be turned or trifled with. 

As 1 TOPntion my cold's being so bad, I will add that I have 
iiover hiui anything the matter with mo since I came here iiut 
the cnld. It is now in my throat, and slightly on my chest 
It occasionif rae great discomfort, and you would suppose, seeing 
me in tba morning, that I could not possibly read at night. But 
I luive always come up to the scratch, have not yet missed one 
night, and have gradually got used to that. I lind got much 
the bett^tr of it, but the dressing-room at the hall here is sin- 
gularly cold and draughty, and so I have slid bock again. 

The papers here having written about this being my birth- 
lUy, the most exquisite (lowers came pouring in &t V>tm?cA.«&V 
time from nil sorts of people. The room is covereA. ■wWV Wva^a, 
made tip into bmutHul bouquets, and arranged m a.\\ tumotw o^ 
iPwa hnskets.^ TVoHwbly J shall find plenly mote a.\. WoVk^X 
'■''** ^^» '« considered the dullest and moaV a.yaXVa'C'U 
^Amerioa. My audioncea have been suvetb. 


1 ined the dog on the first nigfat here. Xext night I 
thought 1 beard (in '■ Copperfield ") a suddenly supprasaed 
batk. It hnppened in this wise : Osgood, standing juet within 
the door, felt his leg touched, and looking down beheld the dog 
staring inteutlj at me, and evidently just about to bark. In i 
transport of preaenct of mind and fiiry, he instantly caught him 
up in both hands and threw him over his own head out into 
the entry, where the check-takers received him like a game at 
ball. Last night be came again with avofhvr dog ; but our 
lople were so sharply ou the lookout for htm that be did n't 
get in. He had evidently promised to pass the other dog free. 


Baltihuke, U. S., Tiuadi]', Febnurr II, 1868. 

The weather has been desperately severe, and my cold quite 
aa bad as ever. I could n't help laughing at niyeelf on my 
birthday at Washington. It was observed as much as though 
I were a little boy. Flowers and garlands (of the moat exquisite 
kind) bloomed all over the room ; Ietl«r8 radiant with good 
wishes poured in ; a shirt-pin, a handsome silver travelling' 
bottle, a set of gold shirUstuds, and a set of gold sleeve-links 
were on the dinner-table. After " Boots," at night, the whole 
audience rose and remained (Secretaries of State, President's 
family, Judges of Supreme Court, and so forth) standing and 
cheering until I went back to the table and made them a little 
speech. On the same august day of the year I was received by 
the President, a man with a very remarkable and determined 
face. Each of us looked at each other very hard, and each of 
US managed the interview (I think) to the satisfaction of the 
other. In the outer room was sitting a certain sunbumt Gen- 
eral Blair, with many evidences of the war upon him. He got 
up to shake hands with me, and then I found he had been 
out in the prairie with me five-and-twenty years ago. That 
afternoon my "catarrh" was in such a state that Charles 
Sumner, coming in at five o'clock and finding me covered with 
mustard poultice, and apparently voiceless, turned to Dolby and 
said, "Surely, Mr. Dolby, it is impossible that he can read 
to-night." Says Dolby, "Sir, I have told the dear Chief so 
four times to-day, and I have been very anxious. But you 
have no idea how he will change when he gets to the little 


table." After five minutes of the little table I was not (for the 
time) even hoarse. The frequent experience of this return of 
force when it is wanted saves me a vast amoimt of anxiety. 

I wish you would get from Homan and report to me, as near 
as he can make, an approximate estimate is the right term in 
the trade, I believe, of the following work : — 

1. To re-cover, with red leather, all the dining-room chairs. 

2. To ditto, with green leather, all the library chairs and the 

3. To provide and lay down new Brussels carpets in the 
front spare and the two top spares. Quality of carpet, quality 
of yours and mine. 

I have some doubts about the state of the hall floor-cloth, 
and also the floor-cloth in the dining-room. Will you and your 
aunt carefully examine both (calling in Homan too, if neces- 
sary), and report to 7ne ? 

It would seem that " No Thoroughfare " has really developed 
as a drama into an amazing success. I begin to think that I 
shall see it. Dolby is away this morning, to conquer or die in 
a terrific struggle with the Mayor of New Haven (where I am to 
read next week), who has assailed him on a charge of false play 
in selling tickets. Osgood, my other keeper, stands at the table 
to take me out, and have a " breather " for the walking-match, 
BO I must leave ofiP. 

Think of my dreaming of Mrs. Bouncer each night ! ! ! 


Baltimore^ U. S., Tuesday, February 11, 1868. 

My deab Harby, — I should have written to you before 
now but for constant and arduous occupation. 

In reference to the cricket cluVs not being what it might be, 
I agree with you in the main. There are some things to be 
considered, however, which you have hardly taken into account. 
The first thing to be avoided is, the slightest appearance of 
patronage (one of the curses of England). The second thing to 
be avoided is, the deprival of the men of their just right to 
manage their own affairs. I would rather have no club at all 
than have either of these great mistakes made. The way out 
of them is this : Call the men together, and explain to them 
that the club might be larger, richer, and better. Say that you 


tLiuk that more of the neighbouring gentlemen could be got to 
bo playing members. That you submit to them that it would 
be better to have a captain who could correspond with tbem, 
and talk to them, and iu some sort manage them ; and that, 
being perfectly acquainted with tbe game, and having long 
played it at a great public school, you propose yourself sa cap- 
tain for the foregoing reasons. That you propiose to tbem lo 
make tbe subscription of tbe gentlemen members at least double 
tliat of tbe working-men, for no other reason than that the 
gentlemen «in afford it better ; but that both classes of mem- 
bers shall have exactly tbe same right of voting equally iaall 
that concerns the club. Say that you have consulted me upoa 
the matter, and that I am of these opinions, ami am ready to 
become chairman of the club, and to preside at their meetings, 
and to overlook its business affairs, and to give it five poundi 
a year, payable at the commencement of each season. Then, 
having brought to this point, draw up the club's rulea 
and regulations, amending them where tbey want amondment. 
Discreetly done, I see no difficulty in this. But it can odIt 
6 honourably and hopefully done by baring tbe men together. 


bodily this morning with defiant written instructions from me 
to inform the said mayor that, if he fail to make out his case, he 
(Dolhy) is to return all the money taken, and to tell him that I 
irill not set foot in his jurisdiction ; whereupon the New Haven 
people will prohahly fall upon the mayor in his turn, and lead 
him a pleasant life. 

Ever, my dear Harry, your affectionate father. 


Philadxi^phia, Thuredaj, Febniary 13, 1868. 

We have got into an immense difficulty with the people of 
New Haven. I have a strong suspicion that one of our men (who 
sold there) has heen speculating all this while, and that he must 
have put front seats in his pockets, and sold hack ones. He 
denies what the mayor charges, hut the mayor holds on grimly. 
Dolhy set off from Baltimore as soon as we found out what was 
amiss, to examine and report ; hut some new feature of diffi- 
culty must have come out, for this morning he telegraphs from 
New York (where he had to sleep last night on his way to New 
Haven) that he is coming hack for further consultation with the 
Chief. It will certainly hurt us, and will of course he distorted 
by the papers into all manner of shapes. My suspicion may 
not he correct, hut I have an instinctive helief that it is. We 
shall prohahly have the old New York row (and loss) over again, 
unless I can catch this mayor tripping in an assertion. 

In this very place we are half distracted hy the speculators. 
They have heen holding out for such high prices, that the pub- 
lic have held out too ; and now (frightened at what they have 
done) the speculators are trying to sell their worst seats at half 
the cost price, so that we are in the ridiculous situation of 
having sold the room out, and yet not knowing what empty 
seats there may he. We could sell at our box-office to any 
extent; but we can't huy hack of the speculators, hecause we 
informed the puhlic that all the tickets were gone. And if 
we bought under our own price, and sold at our own price, 
we should at once be in treaty with the speculators, and should 
he making money by it ! Dolby, the much bullied, will come 
hack here presently, half bereft of his senses ; and I should 
he half bereft of mine if the situation were not comically 

TOL. U. 


XothiDg will induce the people to Ittliere in the fimwifli 
At Beltimofe on Toesdaj nig^t (a rerj tvrilliant m^jtA inJmi), 
thej asked as thej came oat^ ** When wiU Mr. Diduns ml 
here again?" ^^NeTer/' '* Nonsense! Not eome haek, ate 
aoeh houses as these ? Come. Saj when he '11 read wgjua? 
Just the same here. We could as soon penuade them tW 
I am the President, as that I am going to read here, lor the 
last time, to-morrow night. 

There is a child of the Barnej Williams's in this hoose — t 
little girl — to whom I presented a Uack doll when I waa here 
last. I have seen her eye at the keyhole since I hegan writing 
this, and I think she and the doll are outside stiU. " Whea 
you sent it up to me hy the coloured hoy/' she said after 
receiving it (coloured hoy is the term for hiack waiter), ** I gave 
such a cream that ma came running in and creamed too^ 'eos 
she fort I 'd hurt myself. But I creamed a cream of joy." 
Sfie had a friend to play with her that day, and hrought the 
friend with her, to my infinite confusion. A friend all stodi- 
ings, and much too tall, who sat on the sofa veiy far hack, with 
her stockings sticking stiffly out in front of her, and glared at 
me and never spake word. Dolby found us confronted in a sort 
of fascination, like serpent and bird. 


New York, Monday, FcbniaTT 17, 186a. 

I got your letter of the 3d of February here this morning. 
As I am off at bcvcii to-morrow morning, I answer it at once, 
though indeed I havo nothing to say. 

" Tnio American " still sticking to me. But I am always 
ready for my work, and therefore don't much mind. Dolby 
and the ^f nyor of New Haven alternately embrace and exchange 
mortal defiances. In writing out some advertisements towards 
midnight last night he made a very good mistake. " The read- 
ing will 1k', comprised within two mtnuteSy and the audience are 
earnestly entreated to be seated ten hours before its commence- 

Thn weather has been finer lately, but the streets are in a 
horrible condition, through half-melted snow, and it is now 
snowing again. The walking-match (next Saturday week) is 
already in the I^ton papers I I suppose half Boston will turn 


out on the nccaaion. As a sure way of not being conspicuoue, 
" the men " aw giing to walk in iUnnel ! They are in a 
mingled state of comicality and gravity about it that is highly 
ridiculous. Yesterday being a bright cool day, I took Dolby 
for a " buster " of eight miles. Aa everybody here knows mn, 
the spectacle of our splitting up the fashionable avenue (the 
only WSJ out of town) excited the greatest amazement. Ko 
doubt l/iat will be in the papers to-morrow. I give a gorgeous 
tiaiiquel to eighteen (ladies and gentlemen) after the match. 
Mr, and Mrs. Fields, Do, Ticknor, Longfellow and his daughter, 
Lowell, Holmes and hta wife, etc., etc- Sporting speeches to be 
made, and the stakes (for hata) to be liondud over to the winner. 

My ship will not be the Cuba after all. She is to go into 
dock, and the Russia (a larger ship, and the latest built for the 
Cunord line) is to take her place. 

Very glad to hear of Plorn's success, Best love to Mamie. 

II _..™™» 

r W*HiiiNOTi)N, Fobnmry SJ, 1868. 

My deab Fkchteb, — Your letter reached me here yester- 
day, I have sent you a telegram (addressed to the theatre) 
this morning, and I write this by the earliest return mail. 

My dear fellow, consider yourself my representative. What- 
ever you do, or desire to do, about the play, I fully authorise 
beforehand. Tell Webster, with my regard, that I think his 
pioposal honest and fair ; thut I think it, in a word, like him- 
self ! and that I have perfect confidence in his good faith and 

Am to making money of the play in the United Stales here, 
Boucicault has hlled Wilkie's head with golden dreams that have 
nethlru/ in them. He makes no account of the fact that, whec- 
vnr I go, the theatres (with my name in hig letters) instantly 
h^ti playing versions of my books, and that the moment (lie 
Chrtstmaa number came over here they pirated it and played 
" No Thoroughfare." Now, I have inquired into the W'k, wvi. 
■m extremely dmihtfiil whether I eonld have ^Te-swvXiti. ^^SB.. 
Wbjr »bottld they pay for the piece aa you blc\> W., niWti. 'C^^^'S 
&»n DO aetorv. and when all they want u my tiMnt, Mi4 'Oofc"1 

"At nothing ? I 

tformly written of you entt\usVaat\«attl 


letter I had from Ynm, dated the 10th of January, he deaerikil 
your conception and execution of the part in the moat fjfiomag 
terms. ''Here Fechter is magnificent.'' ''Here hia aopeA 
playing hrings the house down." " I should call eren his ai 
in the last act one of the suhtlest and finest things he dosi ii 
the piece." " You can hardly imagine what he gets oot of tk 
part, or what he makes of his passionate love for Maiguerita' 
These ezpressions, and many others like them, crowded Hi 

I never did so want to see a character played oc the stip 
as I want to see you play Ohenreizer. As the play was gim% 
when I last heard of it, I have some hopes that I mat sea it 
yet Please Qody your Adelphi dressing-room will he irndi- 
ated with the nohle presence of " Never Wrong " (if you an 
acting), about the evening of Monday, the 4th of May ! 

I am doing enormous business. It is a wearying life, awiy 
from all I love, but I hope that the time will soon begin to 
spin away. Among the many changes that I find here is the 
comfortable change that the people are in general extremely 
considerate, and veiy observant of my privacy. Even in this 
place, I am really almost as much my own master as if I weie 
in an English country town. Generally, they are very good 
audiences indeed. They do not (I think) perceive touches of 
art to ^e art ; but they are responsive to the broad results of 
such touches. " Doctor Marigold " is a great favourite, and 
they laugh so unrestrainedly at "The Trial" from "Pickwick" 
(which you never heard), that it has grown about half as long 
again as it used to be. 

If I could send you a " brandy cocktail " by post I would. 
It is a highly meritorious dram, which I hope to present to you 
at Gad's. My New York landlord made me a " Rocky Moun- 
tain Sneezer," which appeared to me to be compounded of all 
the spirits ever heard of in the world, with bitters, lemon, sugar, 
and snow. You can only make a true "sneezer" when the 
snow is lying on the ground. 

There, my dear boy, my paper is out, and I am going to read 
" Copperfield." Count always on my fidelity and tnie attach- 
ment, and look out, as I have already said, for a distinguished 
visitor about Monday, the 4th of May. 

Ever, my dear Fechter, 

Your cordial and aflectionate friend. 



Boston, Tuesday, Febmary 25, 1868. 

It is 80 very difficult to know, by any exercise of common 
sense, what turn or height the political excitement may take 
next, and it may so easily, and so soon, swallow up all other 
things, that I think I shall suppress my next week's readings 
here (by good fortune not yet annoxinced) and watch the course 
of events. Dolby's sudden desponding under these circum- 
stances is so acute, that it is actually swelling his head as I 
glance at him in the glass while writing. 

The catarrh is no better and no worse. The weather is in- 
tensely cold. The walking-match (of which I will send particu- 
lars) is to come off on Saturday. Mrs. Fields is more delightful 
than ever, and Fields more hospitable. My room is always 
radiant with brilliant flowers of their sending. I don't know 
whether I told you that the walking-match is to celebrate the 
extinction of February, and the coming of the day when I can 
say ** next month." 


BosTOK, Thareday, February 27, 1868. 

This morning at breakfast I received yours of the 11th from 
Palace Gate House. I have very little news to give you in 
return for your budget. The walking-match is to come off on 
Saturday, and Fields and I went over the ground yesterday to 
measure the miles. We went at a tremendous pace. The 
condition of the ground is something indescribable, from half- 
melted snow, running water, and sheets and blocks of ice. The 
two performers have not the faintest notion of the weight of 
the task they have imdertaken. I give a dinner afterwards, and 
have just now been settling the bill of fare and selecting the 

In the first excitement of the presidential impeachment, our 
houses instantly went down. After carefully considering the 
subject, I decided to take advantage of the fact that next week's 
four readings here have not yet been announced, and to abolish 
them altogether. Nothing in this country lasts long, and I 
think the public may be heartily tired of the President's name 

iH LKTtBiCS 0> 3SabI3iS~ DiOKK^B 

bj the 9th of March, when I read at a considerable dutuue 
from iLera. So behold me with a whole week's holiday in 
Tiew I The Boston audieueea have come to regard the readingi 
and the reader jis thoir peculiar property ; and you would be tl 
<HU9e amused and |>1eased if you could 

which they seem to plume themselves on bath. They haie 
takon to applauding, too, whenevi?r they laugh or cry, and tba 
reanlt is very inspiriting. I shall remain here until .Saturday, 
tile 7th, bat shall not read here, after to-morrow night, until 
the Ist of April, when I begin my Boston farewells, six Sb 

Friday, SBtb 
It has been snowing all night, and the city is in a misersU* 
ecmditioo. We had a fine house last night for " Carol " and 
"Trial," and such an enthusiastic one that they persisted in a 
call after the " L'arol," and, while I was out, covered the little 
table with flowers. The " True American " has taken a bvA 
■tart, as if it were quite a novelty, and is on the whole rather 
worse thsn ever to-day. The Cunard pack<^t, the Australasian 
(a poor ship), is some days overdue, and Dnlfiy is anxiously 
looking out for her. There is a lull iu tl.t> I'xi-il.-Tiii-iyt about 
the President, but the articlea of impeachment are to be pto- 
duced this afternoon, and then it may set in again. O^ood 
came into camp last night from selling in remote places, and 
reports that at Rochester and Buffalo (both places near the fron- 
tier), Canada people bought tickets, who had struggled acroes 
the frozen nver and clambered over all sorta of obstructions to 
get them. Some of those halls turn out to be smaller than 
represented, but I have no doubt, to use an American expres- 
sion, that we shall " get along." 

To-morrow fortnight we purpose being at the Falls of 
Niagara, and then we shall turn back and really begin to wind 
up, I have got to know the "Carol" so well that I can't 
remember it, and occasionally go dodging about in the wildest 
manner to pick up lost pieces. They took it so tremendouslj 
last night that I was stopped every five minutes. One poor 
young girl in mourning burst into a passion of grief about Tiny 
Tim, and was taken out. This is all my news. 

Each of the pedestrians is endeavouring to persuade the other 
to taks something onwholesome before starting. 



Boston, Monday, March 2, 1868. 

A heavy gale of wind and a snow-storm oblige me to write 
saddenly for the Canard steamer a day earlier than usual. The 
xailioad between this and New York will probably be stopped 
somewhere. After all the hard weather we have had, this is 
the worst day we have seen. 

The walking-match came off on Saturday, over tremendously 
difficult ground, against a biting wind, and through deep snow- 
wreaths. It was so cold, too, that our hair, beards, eyelashes, 
eyebrows, were frozen hard, and hung with icicles. The course 
was thirteen miles. They were close together at the turning- 
point, when Osgood went ahead at a splitting pace and with 
extraordinary endurance, and won by half a mile. Dolby did 
very well indeed, and begs that he may not be despised. In 
the evening I gave a very splendid dinner. Eighteen covers, 
most magnificent flowers, such table decoration as was never seen 
in these parte. The whole thing was a great success, and every- 
body was delighted. 

I am holiday-making until Friday, when we start on the 
round of travel that is to bring us back here for the Ist of 
ApriL My holiday-making is simply thorough resting, except 
on Wednesday, when I dine with Longfellow. There is still 
great political excitement, but I hope it may not hurt us very 
much. My fear is that it may damage the farewell. Dolby is 
not of my mind as to this, and I hope he may be right. We 
are not quite determined whether Mrs. Fields did not desert 
our colours, by coming on the ground in a carriage, and having 
bread soaked in brandy put into the winning man's mouth as 
he steamed along. She pleaded that she would have done as 
much for Dolby, if he had been ahead, so we are inclined to 
forgive her. As she had done so much for me in the way of 
flowers, I thought I would show her a sight in that line at the 
dinner. You never saw anything like it. Two immense 
crowns ; the base, of the choicest exotics ; and the loops, oval 
masses of violets. In the centre of the table an immense 
basket, overflowing with enormous bell-mouthed lilies; all 
round the table a bright green border of wreathed creeper, with 
clustering roses at intervals ; a rose for every button-hole, and 


a bouquet for every lady. They made an exhibition of the 
table Ix-fiire liinnur to numbers of people. 

P, II. lias just tome in with a newspaper, contiiining a refer 
ence (in ^oo<l taste !) to the walking- match. He posta it to yoc 
by this post. 

It ifi telegraplied that the storm prevails over an immens 
extent of country, and is juiit the same at Chicago as here, i 
hope it may prove a wind-up. We are getting sick of the sounil 
of aldgh-lx'lls even. 

Your account of Anne has greatly interested me. 


STKACtlHK. V. S. or Aniircik, 

Sundkj Night, Mircb 8, IS61 
My PE^R FErHTKE, — I am here in a most wondetful out- 
of-the-world ]ihce, which looks aa if it had begun to be built 
yealerduj an 1 were going to be imperfectly knocked togelhw 
with a nail or two the da^ after to-morrow. I am in the wdut 
inn ilmt e\er was seen, and outside is a thaw that places tiie 
>uiitr; under water I have looked out of window for 


I mean to take my leave of readings in the autumn and 
winter, in a final series in England with Chappell. This will 
come into the way of literary work for a time, for after I 
have rested — don't laugh — it is a grim reality — I shall have 
to turn my mind to — ha ! ha ! ha ! — to — ha ! ha ! ha ! 
(more sepulchrally than before) — the — the Christmas Num- 
ber ! ! ! I feel as if I had murdered a Christmas number years 
ago (perhaps I did!) and its ghost perpetually haunted me. 
Nevertheless in some blessed rest at Gad's, we will talk over 
stage matters, and all matters, in an even way, and see what we 
can make of them, please God. Be sure that I shall not be in 
London one evening, after disembarking, without coming round 
to the theatre to embrace you, my dear fellow. 

I have had an American cold (the worst in the world) since 
Christmas Day. I read four times a week, with the most tre- 
mendous energy I can bring to bear upon it. I travel about 
pretty heavily. I am very resolute about calling on people, or 
receiving people, or dining out, and so save myself a great deal. 
I read in all sorts of places — churches, theatres, concert rooms, 
lecture halls. Every night I read I am described (mostly by 
people who have not the faintest notion of observing) from the 
sole of my boot to where the topmost hair of my head ought to 
be, but is not. Sometimes I am described as being ^' evidently 
nervous ; " sometimes it is rather taken ill that ^' Mr. Dickens 
is so extraordinarily composed." My eyes are blue, red, grey, 
white, green, brown, black, hazel, violet, and rainbow-coloured. 
I am like a " well-to-do American gentleman," and the Emperor 
of the French, with an occasional touch of the Emperor of 
China, and a deterioration from the attributes of our famous 
townsman, Rufus W. B. D. Dodge Grumsher Pickville. I say 
all sorts of things that I never said, go to all sorts of places 
that I never saw or heard of, and have done all manner of 
things (in some previous state of existence, I suppose) that have 
quite escaped my memory. You ask your friend to describe 
what he is about. This is what he is about, every day and 
hour of his American life. 

I hope to be back with you before you write to me I 
Ever, my dear Fechter, 

Your most affectionate and hearty friend. 

P. S. — Don't let Madame Fechter, or Marie, or Paul forget 
me ! 



Stbacuxi:, SuDda;, Huvh g, 1861 
Aa we shall probalily be busy all day to-morrow, I write tliis 
to-dny, though it will uot leavn New York iiatil Wednesdaj. 
This is a very grim place in a heavy thaw, and a moat depreis- 
ing one. Thii hotel also is surprisingly had, quite a triumpli 
ill th;tt way. We stood out for an hour in the melting sduv, 
and came in again, having to change completely. Then tve sai 
down hy the stove {no fireplace), and tlicce we are now. We 
were so afraid to go to bed last night, the rooms were so closa 
and sour, that wo played whist, double dummy, till we could n't 
bear eacli other any longer. Wo iiad an old hutfalo for supper, 
and un old pig for breakfast, and we are going to have I ilou't 
know what for dinner at six. In the public rooms down stain, 
a number of men (speechless) are sitting in tocking-chaira, witJi 
their feet agaiu?t the window-frames, staring out at window aud 
spitting dulefully at intervals. Scott is in tears, and GeOTge 
the gasman is suborning people to go and clean the haU, whicb 


had anything in the world to do with it, except having his name 
pressed into the service of the newspaper. 

Buffalo, Thursday, March 12, 1868. 

I hope this may be in time for next Saturday's mail ; but 
this is a long way from New York, and rivers are swollen with 
melted snow, and travelling is unusually slow. 

Just now (two o'clock in the afternoon) I received your sad 
news of the death of poor dear Chauncey. It naturally goes to 
my heart. It is not a light thing to lose such a friend, and 
I truly loved him. In the first unreasonable train of feeling, I 
dwelt more than I should have thought possible on my being 
unable to attend his funeral. I know how little this really 
matters ; but I know he would have wished me to be there 
with real honest tears for his memory, and I feel it very much. 
I never, never, never was better loved by man than I was by 
him, I am sure. Poor dear fellow, good, affectionate, gentle 

I have not as yet received any letter from Henri, nor do I 
think he can have vrritten to New York by your mail. I believe 
that I am — I know that I was — one of the executors. In 
that case Mr. Jackson, his agent, will either write to me very 
shortly on Henri's information of my address, or inquiry will 
be made at GTad's or at the office about it. 

It is difficult for me to write more just now. The news is a 
real shock at such a distance, and I must read to-night, and I 
must compose my mind. Let Mekitty know that I received 
her violets with great pleasure, and that I sent her my best 
love and my best thanks. 

On the 25th of February I read " Copperfield " and " Bob " 
at Boston. Either on that very day, or very close upon it, I 
was describing his (Townshend's) house to Fields, and telling 
him about the great Danby picture that he should see when he 
came to London. 


Buffalo, March 13, 1868. 

We go to the Falls of Niagara to-morrow for our own pleas- 
ure ; and I take all the men, as a treat. We found Rochester 
last Tuesday in a very curious state. Perhaps you know that 


the Oveat Ftlk of tbe Genesee Biver (really veiy fine, eTsn m 
near Niagara) are at that place. In the height of a siiddea 
thaw, an immense hank of ioe ahove the rapids refused to yiski; 
so that the town was threatened (for the second time in four 
years) with suhmersion. Boats were ready in the streets, sH 
the people were up all night, and none hut the children skpL 
In the dead of the night a thundering noise was heardi the iei 
gave way, the swollen river came raging and roaring down the 
Falls, and the town was safe. Very picturesque ! hut " not ivj 
good for husiness,'' as the manager says. Especially as the hsU 
stands in the centre of danger, and had ten feet of water in it 
on the last occasion of flood. But I think we had ahotre £200 
Ekiglish. On the previous night at Syracuse — a most oa^ 
of-the-way and unintelligihle-looking place, with apparently no 
people in it — we had £^5 odd. Here, we had last night, and 
shall have to-night^ whatever we can cram into the halL 

This Bufialo has hecome a large and important town, witk 
numbers of Grerman and Irish in it. But it is very curious to 
notice, as we touch the frontier, that the American female 
beauty dies out ; and a woman's face clumsily compounded of 
Grerman, Irish, Western America, and Canadian, not yet fused 
together, and not yet moulded, obtains instead. Our show of 
Beauty at night is, generally, remarkable ; bat we had not a 
dozen pretty women in tbe whole throng last night, and the 
faces were all blunt. I have just been walking about and 
observing the same thing in the streets. . . . The winter has 
been so severe, that the hotel on the English side at Niagara 
(which has the best view of the Falls, and is for that reason very 
preferable) is not yet open. So we go, perforce, to the Ameri- 
can, which telegraphs back to our telegram : '^ All Mr. Dick- 
ens's requirements perfectly understood." I have not yet been 
in more than two veri/ bad inns. I have been in some, where 
a good deal of what is popularly called '^ slopping round " has 
prevailed ; but have been able to get on very well. " Slopping 
round," so used, means untidy ness and disorder. It is a comi- 
cally expressive phrase, and has many meanings. Fields was 
asking the price of a quarter-cask of sherry the other day. 
" Wa'al, Mussr .Fields," the merchant replies, " that varies 
according to quality, as is but nay'tral. If yer wa'ant a sherry 
just to slop round with it, I can fix you some at a very low 



BocHKSTBB, Mondaj, March 16, 1868. 

I found yonrs of the 28t1i February when I came back here 
last night. We have had two brilliant sunny days at Niagara, 
and have seen that wonderful place under the finest circum- 

Inclosed I return you Roman's estimate ; let all that work be 
done, including the curtains. 

As to the hall, I have my doubts whether one of the par- 
queted floors made by Aaron Smith's, of Bond Street, ought not 
to be better than tiles, for the reason that perhaps the nature of 
the house's construction might render the '' bed " necessary for 
wooden flooring more easy to be made than the '' bed " neces- 
sary for tiles. I don't think you can do better than call in the 
farnsty Lillie to advise. Decide with your aunt on which ap- 
pears to be better, under the circumstances. Have estimate 
made for ccish, select patterns and colours, and let the work 
be done out of hand. (Here 's a prompt order ; now I draw 
breath.) Let it be thoroughly well done — no half measures. 

There is a great thaw all over the country here, and I think 
it has done the catarrh good. I am to read at the famous New 
Haven on Tuesday, the 24th. I hope without a row, but can- 
not say. The readings are running out fast now, and we are 
growing very restless. 

This is a short letter, but we are pressed for time. It is two 
o'clock, and we dine at three, before reading. To-morrow we 
rise at six, and have eleven hours' railway or so. We have 
now come back from our farthest point, and are steadily work- 
ing towards home. 


Rochester, N. T., March 16, 1868. 

After two most brilliant days at the Falls of Niagara, we got 
back here last night. To-morrow morning we turn out at six 
for a long railway journey back to Albany. But it is nearly all 
" back " now^ thank God ! I don't know how long, though, 
before turning, we might have gone on at Buffalo. . . . We 
went everywhere at the Falls, and saw them in every aspect. 


There is a suspension bridge across, now, some two nuks oi 
more from the Horse Shoe ; and another, half a mile nearer, ii 
to be opened in July. They are very fine but very ticklidi, 
hanging aloft there, in the continual vibration of the thund»> 
ing water ; nor is one greatly reassured by the printed notieB 
that troops must not cross them at step, that bands of miMie 
must not play in crossing, and the like. I shall never foiget 
the last aspect in which we saw Niagara yesterday. We hid 
been everywhere, when I thought of struggling (in an open eu- 
riage) up some very difficult ground for a good distanoSi sod 
getting where we could stand above the river, and see it^ as it 
rushes forward to its tremendous leap, coming for miles and 
miles. All away to the horizon on our right was a wondeifal 
confusion of bright green and white water. As we stood waldb- 
ing it with our faces to the top of the Falls, our backs wen 
towards the sun. The majestic valley below the Falls, so sea 
through the vast doud of spray, was made of rainbow. The 
high banks, the riven rocks, the forests, the bridge, the build- 
ings, the air, the sky, were all made of rainbow. Nothing in 
Turner's finest water-colour drawings, done in his greatest day, 
is so ethereal, so imaginative, so gorgeous in colour, as what I 
then beheld. I seemed to be lifted from the earth and to be 
looking into heaven. What I once said to you, as I witnessed 
the scene five-and-twcnty years ago, all came back at this most 
affecting and sublime sight. The " muddy vesture of our clay " 
falls from us as wc look. ... I chartered a separate carriage 
for our men, so that they might see all in their own way, and 
at their own time. 

There is a great deal of water out between Rochester and 
New York, and travelling is very uncertain, as I fear we may 
fmd to-morrow. There is again some little alarm here on ac- 
count of the river rising too fast. But our to-night's house is 
far ahead of the first. Most charming halls in these places; 
excellent for sight and sound. Almost invariably built as thea- 
tres, with stage, scenery, and good dressing-rooms. Audience 
seated to perfection (every seat always separate), excellent door- 
ways and passages, and brilliant light. My screen and gas are 
set up in front of the drop-curtain, and the most delicate touches 
will tell anywhere. No creature but my own men ever near 

W. a MACBEADT 835 


Springfield, Mass., Satarday, March 21, 1868. 

My deabest Macready, — What with perpetual reading 
and travelling, what with a " true American catarrh " (on which 
I am complimented almost boastfully), and what with one of 
the severest winters ever known, your coals of fire received by 
the last mail did not burn my head so much as they might have 
done under less excusatory circumstances. But they scorched 
it too! 

You would find the general aspect of America and the Amer- 
icans decidedly much improved. You would find immeasurably 
greater consideration and respect for your privacy than of old. 
You would find a steady change for the better everywhere, 
except (oddly enough) in the railroads generally, which seem to 
have stood still, while everything else has moved. But there 
is an exception westward. There the express trains have now 
a very delightful carriage called a " drawing-room car," literally 
a series of little private drawing-rooms, with sofas and a table 
in each, opening out of a little corridor. In each, too, is a 
large plate-glass window, with which you can do as you like. 
As you pay extra for this luxury, it may be regarded as the 
first move towards two classes of passengers. When the rail- 
road straight away to San Francisco (in six days) shall be 
opened through, it will not only have these drawing-rooms, but 
sleeping-rooms too ; a bell in every little apartment communi- 
cating with a steward's pantry, a restaurant, a staff of servants, 
marble washing-stands, and a barber's shop ! I looked into one 
of these cars a day or two ago, and it was very ingeniously 
arranged and quite complete. 

I left Niagara last Sunday, and travelled on to Albany, 
through three hundred miles of flood, villages deserted, bridges 
broken, fences drifting away, nothing but tearing water, floating 
ice, and absolute wreck and ruin. The train gave in altogether 
at Utica, and the passengers were let loose there for the night. 
As I was due at Albany, a very active superintendent of works 
did all he could to '^ get Mr. Dickens along," and in the morn- 
ing we resumed our journey through the water, with a hun- 
dred men in seven-league boots pushing the ice from before us 
with long poles. How we got to Albany I can't say, but we 

got there somehow, just in time for a triumphal "" Carol " i 
"Trial." All the tickets had been sold, and we found tha 
Albanians in a ntate of great excitement. You may imagint 
Vhat the flood wae when I tell you that we took the passongen 
out of two trains that bad their tires put out by the water foa^ 
and-twenty hours before, and cattle from trucks that had faeu 
in the water I don't know how long, but so long that the sheep 
had begun to eat each other ! It was a horrible epectacle, and 
the haggard human misery of their facea was quite a new study. 
There was a fine breath of spring in the air concurrently with 
tbe great thaw ; but lo and behold ! last night it b«gan to snov 
Kgain, with a strong wind, and to-day a snowdrift covers thb 
place with all the desolation of wint«r once more. I nern 
was BO tired of the sight of snow. As to sleighing, I have been 
ileighing about to that extent that I am aick of the sound of ■ 

I have seen all our Boston friends, except Curtis. Ticknor 
ts dead. The rest are very little changed, except that Longfel* 
tow has a perfectly white flowing beard and long white hair, 
But he does not otherwise look old, and is infinitely hand.^omcr 
than he was. I have been constantly with lliorri ull. and thny 
have always talked much of yon. It is the established joke 
that Boston ia my "native place," and we hold all aorta of 
hearty foregatherings. They all come to every reading, and an 
always in s most delightful state of enthusiasm. They give me 
a parting dinner at the club, on the Thursday before Good Fri- 
day. To pass from Boston personal to New York theatrical, I 
will mention bete that one of the proprietora of my New Yoife 
hotel is one of the proprietors of Niblo's, and the most active. 
Consequently I have seen the " Black Crook " and the " White 
Fawn," iu majesty, from an arm-chsir in the first entrance, P. S., 
more than once. Of these astonishing dramas, I beg to report 
(serionaly) that I have found no human creature " behind " 
who has the slightest idea what they are about (upon my hon- 
our, my dearest Macready !), and that having some amiable 
small talk with a neat tittle Spanish woman, who is the pre- 
miire danaeuse, I asked her, in joke, to let me measure her skirt 
with my dress glove. Holding the glove by the tip of the fore- 
finger, I found the skirt to be just three gloves long, and yet ita 
Icngtit was much iu excess of the skirts of two hundred other 

Vm, whom the carpenters were at that moment getting into 


their places for a transformation scene, on revolving columns, on 
wires and ^' travellers " in iron cradles, up in the flies, down in 
the cellars, on every description of float that Wilmot, gone 
distracted, could imagine ! 

I have taken my passage for Liverpool from New York in 
the Gunarder Kussia, on the 22d of ApriL I had the second 
officer's cahin on deck coming out, and I have the chief stew- 
ard's cabin on deck going home, because it will be on the sunny 
side of the ship. I have experienced nothing here but good- 
humour and cordiality. In the autumn and winter I have 
arranged with ChappeUs to take my farewell of reading in the 
United Kingdom for ever and ever. 

I am delighted to hear of Benvenuta's marriage, and I think 
her husband a very lucky man. Johnnie has my profound 
sympathy under his examinatorial woes. The noble boy will 
give me Gravazzi revised and enlarged, I expect, when I next 
oome to Cheltenham. I will give you and Mrs. Macready all 
my American experiences when you come to London, or, better 
still, to Grad's. Meanwhile I send my hearty love to all, 
not forgetting dear Katie. 

Niagara is not at all spoiled by a very dizzy-looking suspen- 
sion bridge. Is to have another still nearer to the Horse Shoe 
opened in July. My last sight of that scene (last Sunday) was 
thus: We went up to the rapids above the Horse Shoe — say 
two miles from it — and through the great cloud of spray. 
Everything in the magnificent valley — buildings, forest, high 
banks, air, water, everything — was made of rainbow. Tur- 
ner's most imaginative drawing in his finest day has nothing in 
it so ethereal, so gorgeous in fancy, so celestial. We said to 
one another (Dolby and I), " Let it for ever more remain so," 
and shut our eyes and came away. 

God bless you and all dear to you, my dear old friend ! 

I am ever your affectionate and loving. 


PoBTLAN D, Sunday, March S9, 1868. 

I should have written to you by the last mail, but I really 
was too unwell to do it. The writing-day was last Friday, 
when I ought to have left Boston for New Bedford (fifty-five 
miles) before eleven in the morning. But I was so exhausted 



thftt I could not be got up, and had to take my cboDce ot m 
evening'B timiu producing me in time to read, which it jaet did. 
With the ratimi of snow, nine days ago, the "True Americui" I 
(which had lulled) came back as bad as ever. I have coughied 
from two or three in the morning until five or six, and bat* 
been absolutely sleepless. I have Itad no appetite beaideB, and 
no taste. Last night here I took some laudanum, uid it is the 
onlj tliii^ that has done me good. But the life in tbia climate 
is ao vei7 hard. When I did manage to get from Boston to 
ITew Bedfonl, I read with my utmost force and vigour. Next 
moming, well or ill, I must turn out at sevea to get bock to 
Boston <»t my way liere. 

I dine at Boston at three, and at five must come on here 
(a hnndnd and thirty miles or so) for to-morrow night, tliere 
being no Sunday train. To-morrow night I read here in a very 
large place, and Tuesday morning at six I must start again to 
get heck to Boston once more. But after to-morrow night I 
have only the Boston and 'Sew York farewell?, tbank God ! I 
am most grateful to think that when we came to devise the 
details of the tour, I foresaw tli^il it could never be done, as 
Dolby and 0^g..i«! proposed, l.y ..u.- mi-i^.-i.-t.^l man, as if he 
were a machine. If I hod not cut out the work, and cut out 
Canada, I could never have gone there, I am quite sure. Kven 
as it is, I have just now written to Dolby (who is in Xew 
York), to see my doctor there, and ask him to send me some 
composing medicine that I can take at night, inasmuch as with- 
out sleep I cannot get through. However sympathetic and 
devoted the people are about me, they cannot be got to com- 
prehend that one's being able to do the two hours with spirit 
when the time comes touud may be co-exiatent with the con- 
edooaness of great depression and fatigue. I don't mind sajring 
all this, now that the labour U bo nearly over. You shall have 
a brighter account of me, please God, when I oloee this at 

Hondar, Hardi Mth. 

Without any artificial aid, I got a splendid night's rest last 
night, and consequently am very much freshened up to-day. 
Yesterday I had a fine walk by the sea, and to-day I have bad 
another on the heights overlooking iL 


BosTOK, Taesdaj, dlst 

I have safely arrived here, just in time to add a line to that 
effect^ and get this off by to-morrow's English mail from Kew 
York. Catarrh rather better. Everything triumphant last 
night, except no sleep again. I suppose Dolby to be now on 
his way back to join me here. I am much mistaken if the 
political crisis do not damage the farewells by almost one half. 

I hope that I am certainly better altogether. 

My room well decorated with flowers, of course, and Mr. and 
Mrs. Fields coming to dinner. They are the most devoted of 
friends, and never in the way and never out of it. 


Boston, Wednesday, April 1, 1868. 

I received your letter of from the 14th to the 17th of March, 
here, last night. My New York doctor has prescribed for me 
promptly, and I hope I am better. I am certainly no worse. 
We shall do (to the best of my belief) very well with the fare- 
wells here and at New York, but not greatly. Everything is at 
a standstill, pending the impeachment and the next presidential 
election. I forgot whether I told you that the New York press 
are going to give me a public dinner, on Saturday, the 18th. 

I hear (but not from himself) that Wills has had a bad fall 
in hunting, and is, or has been, laid up. I am supposed, I take 
it, not to know this until I hear it from himself. 


My notion of the farewells is pretty certain now to turn out 
right. It is not at all probable that we shall do anything 
enormous. Every pulpit in Massachusetts will resound to 
violent politics to-day and to-night. You remember the Hutch- 
inson family ? I have had a grateful letter from John Hutchin- 
son. He speaks of " my sister Abby " as living in New York. 
The immediate object of his note is to invite me to the marriage 
of his daughter, twenty-one years of age. 

You will see by the evidence of this piece of paper that I am 
using up my stationery. Scott has just been making anxious 
calculations as to our powers of holding out in the articles of 
tooth-powder, etc. The calculations encourage him to believe 
that we shall just hold out, and no more. I think I am still 



Ibctter to-day than I v&n yesterday ; but I am far from ettoug, 
land havti no appetite. To sec me at mj little table at night, 
lyou would tliink me the freshest of the fcesh. And this t9 
the marvel of Fields' life. 

I iloii't forget that this is Forst«r's birthday. 

FHdij AfUnoM, Id. 

Catarrh worse than ever ! And we don't know (at four) 
whether I can read to-night or must stop. Otherwise all well 


Boston, Tueeda;, ApriJ 7, IS68. 

it only read last Friday, when I was doubtful of being 
I able to do so, but read as I never did before, and astonished 
audience quite as much as myself. Vou never saw or 
I heard such a scene of e.'(cit«ment. 

Longfellow and all the Cambridge men urged me to gire in. 
'. been very near doing so, but feel stronger to-dsy. 1 
I cannot tell whether the catarrh may have done me any 5a£tii^ 


mil, if I should knock up as to reading. I am tremendously 
'^ bett," bat I feel really and unaffectedly so much stronger to- 
dtj, both in my body and hopes, that I am much encouraged. 
I bave a fancy that I turned my worst time last night. 

Dolby is' as tender as a woman and as watchful as a doctor. 
He never leaves me during the reading now, but sits at the side 
of tbe platform and keeps his eye upon me all the time. Ditto 
Geoige, the gasman, steadiest and most reliable man I ever 
■ employed. I am the more hopeful of my not having to relin- 
quish a reading, because last night was '' Copperfield " and 
''fiob" — by a quarter of an hour the longest, and, in consider- 
ation of the storm, by very much the most trying. Yet I was 
hi fresher afterwards than I have been these three weeks. 

I have ** Dombey *' to do to-night, and must go through it 
euefolly; so here ends my report. The personal affection of 
the people in this place is charming to the last 


Aboard thb Russia, bouhd for Liykepool, 
Sunday, April 26, 1868. 

Mt dbab Fields, — In order that you may have the earliest 
intelligence of me, I begin this note to-day in my small cabin, 
purposing (if it should prove practicable) to post it at Queens- 
town for the return steamer. 

We are already past the Banks of Newfoundland, although our 
eourse was seventy miles to the south, with the view of avoid- 
ing ice seen by Judkins in the Scotia on his passage out to New 
York. The Russia is a magnificent ship, and has dashed along 
bravely. We had made more than thirteen hundred and odd 
miles at noon to-day. The wind, after being a little capricious, 
rather threatens at the present time to turn against us, but our 
nm is already eighty miles ahead of the Russia's last run in 
this direction — a very fast one. ... To all whom it may 
concern, report the Russia in the highest terms. She rolls 
more easily than the other Cunard Screws, is kept in perfect 
order, and is most carefully looked after in all departments. 
We have bad nothing approaching to heavy weather ; still one 
can speak to the trim of the ship. Her captain, a gentleman ; 
bright, polite, good-natured, and vigilant . . . 

As to me, I am greatly better, I hope. I have got on my 


right boot Unlay for the first time; the ''True Americin'' 
eeems to be taming ftdthlese at last ; and I made a Gad's Hill 
breakfast this morning, as a further advance on having othei^ 
wise eaten and drank all day ever since Wednesday. 

Yoa will see Anthony Trollope, I dare say. What was my 
amazement to see him with these eyes come aboard in the mail 
tender jast before we started ! He had come out in the 
Scotia just in time to dash off again in said tender to shake 
hands with me, knowing me to be aboard here. It was most 
heartily done. He is on a special mission of convention with 
the United States post-office. 

We have been picturing your movements, and have duly 
checked off your journey home, and have talked about you 
continually. But I have thought about you both, even much, 
much more. You will never know how I love you both ; or 
what you have been to me in America, and will always be to 
me everywhere ; or how fervently I thank you. 

All the working of the ship seems to be done on my forehead. 
It is scrubbed and holystoned (my head — not the deck) at 
three every morning. It is scraped and swabbed all day. 
Eight pairs of heavy boots are now clattering on it, getting the 
ship under sail again. Legions of ropes'-ends are flopped upon 
it as I write, and I must leave off with Dolby's love. 

Thandar, aoth. 

Soon after I left off as above we had a gale of wind which 
blew all night. For a few hours on the evening side of mid- 
night there was no getting from this cabin of mine to the saloon, 
or vice versa, so heavily did the sea break over the decks. The 
ship, however, made nothing of it, and we were all right again 
by Monday afternoon. Except for a few hours yesterday (when 
we had a very light head- wind), the weather has been con- 
stantly favourable, and we are now bowling away at a great rate, 
with a fresh breeze filling all our sails. We expect to be at 
Queenstown between midnight and three in the morning. 

I hope, my dear Fields, you may find this legible, but I 
rather doubt it, for there is motion enough on the ship to render 
writing to a landsman, however accustomed to pen and ink, 
rather a difficult achievement. Besides which, I slide away 
gracefully from the paper, whenever I want to be particularly 
expressive. . . . 


, sitting opposite to me at breakfast, always has the fol- 
lowing items: A large dish of porridge into which he casts 
slices of butter and a quantity of sugar. Two cups of tea. A 
steak. Irish stew. Chutnee and marmalade. Another deputa- 
tion of two has solicited a reading to-night. Illustrious novel- 
ist has unconditionally and absolutely declined. More love, and 
more to that, from your ever affectionate friend. 


Gad's Hill Plack, Monday, May 11, 1868. 

My dear Mrs. Watson, — I am delighted to have your 
letter. It comes to me like a faithful voice from dear old 
Rockingham, and awakens many memories. 

The work in America has been so very hard, and the winter 
there has been so excessively severe, that I really have been 
very unwell for some months. But I had not been at sea 
three days on the passage home when I became myself again. 

If you will arrange with Mary Boyle any time for coming 
here, we shall be charmed to see you, and I will adapt my 
arrangements accordingly. I make this suggestion because she 
generally comes here early in the summer season. But if you 
will propose yourself anyhoWy giving me a margin of a few 
days in case of my being pre-engaged for this day or that, we 
will (as my American friends say) *^ fix it." 

What with travelling, reading night after night, and speech- 
making day after day, I feel the peace of the country beyond 
all expression. On board ship coming home, a " deputation " 
(two in number, of whom only one could get into my cabin, 
while the other looked in at my window) came to ask me to 
read to the passengers that evening in the saloon. I respect- 
fully replied that sooner than do it I would assault the captain, 
and be put in irons. 

Ever aflFectionately yours. 


" All the Tear Rouhd '* Office, Maj 16, 1868. 

My dear Fields, — I have found it so extremely difficult 
to write about America (though never so briefly) without ap- 
pearing to blow trumpets on the one hand, or to be inconsistent 

I 344 


vHh my avowed Je termination not to write nbout it on the 
I other, tlmt 1 hava taken the simple course inclosed. The num- 
I ber will be published on the 6th of June. It appears to me 
I to be the most modest and manly course, and to deriTe some 
I graceful signiticance from its title. 

Thank my dear Mph. Fields for me for her delightful let- 

or received on the 16th. I will write to ber very BOon, and 

ell her about the doga. I would write by this pobt, but 

I that Will^'» absence (in Sussex, aad getting no better there a 

I yet) ao Qvcr^vhelms me with business that I can scajcely g«t 

I thro 

li it. 

ir li*«4. 

i? Ah, my dear fellow, but bow do I m 
I We talk nlwut you both at Gad's Hill every day of i 
I Aiid I never sow tjie place looking very pretty iiideeil, or hor 
I the birds sing all day long and the nightingales all night, witb- 
I otit restlessly wishing that you were both tliere. 

With best love, and truest and most enduring regard, ever, 
ray dear Fields, 

Your most nffertionate. 



Gad*s Hill Place, Higbam by Rochestbb, KsKTy 

Saturday, May 16, 1868. 

My DEAR Mrs. Cattermole, — On my return from America 
just now, I accidentally heard that Greorge had been ill. My 
sister-in-law had heard it from Forster, but vaguely. Until I 
received your letter of Wednesday's date, I had no idea that he 
had been very ill ; and should have been greatly shocked by 
knowing it, were it not for the hopeful and bright assurance 
you give me that he is greatly better. 

My old affection for him has never cooled. The last time he 
dined with me, I asked him to come again that day ten years, 
for I was perfectly certain (this was my small joke) that I 
should not set eyes upon him sooner. The time being fully 
up, I hope you will remind him, with my love, that he is due. 
His hand is upon these walls here, so I should like him to see 
for himself, and you to see for yourself ^ and in this hope I shall 
pursue his complete recovery. 

I heartily sympathise with you in your terrible anxiety, and 
in your vast relief ; and, with many thanks for your letter, am 
ever, my dear Mrs. Cattermole, 

Affectionately yours. 


Office of "All the Year Rouhd^" 
Friday, May 2, 1868. 

My dear Fechter, — I have an idea about the bedroom 
act, which I should certainly have suggested if I had been at 
our " repetitions " here.^ I want it done to the so^ind of the 
Waterfall, I want the sound of the Waterfall louder and 
softer as the wind rises and falls, to be spoken through — like 
the music. I want the Waterfall listened to when spoken of, 
and not looked out at. The mystery and gloom of the scene 
would be greatly helped by this, and it would be new and pic- 
turesquely fanciful. 

I am very anxious to hear from you how the piece seems to 

1 The play of No Thoroughfare was produced ai the Adelphi Theatre, under 
the management of Mr. Webster. 


go,' and how the artiste whu are to act it eeem to imderatud 
their imrts. Pray tell tne, too, when you write, how you fouiK! 
Madame Fechter, and give all our loves to all. 

Ever heartily yoon. 


Mt dear Mrs. Fields, — As you ask me about the dop, I 
begin with them. When I came down tirst, I came to fSrnTC*- 
end, five miles off. The two Newfoundland dogs coming to 
meet mo with the uBual carriage and the usual drifer, and W 
holding me coming in my usual drees out at the UBunl door, it 
fltntck nie that their recollection of ray having been n1«ei>t In 
any unusual time was at once cancelled. They behaved (th^ 
are both young dogs) exactly in their usual manner: coining 
behind the basket phaeton as we trotted along, and lifting tlirir 
heads to bave their ears pulled — a special attention which the? 
receive from no one else. But when I drove into the staUe- 
yard, Linda (the St. Bernard) was greatly excited; weeping 
profusely, and throwing herself on her back that she might 
caress my foot with her great fore-jwws. Mamie's little dog, 
too, Mrs. Bouncer, barked in the greatest agitation on being 
called down and asked by Mamie, " Who is this ? " and tort 
round and round me, like the dog in the Faust outlines. Ton 
must know that all the farmers turned out on the road in their 
market-chaises to say, "'Welcome home, sir ! " and that all the 
houses along the road were dressed with flags ; and that oar 
servants, to cut out the rest, had dressed thia house so tbit 
every brick of it was hidden. They had asked Mamie's penni*- 
aion to " ring the alarm-bell " (!) when master drove up ; but 
Mamie, having aome slight idea that that compliment might 
awaken master's sense of the ludicrous, had recommended bell 
abstinence. But on Sunday the village choir (which includea 
the bell-ringers) made amends. After some unusual brief pious 
reSections in the crowns of their hats at the end of the sermon, 
the ringers bolted out, and rang like mad until I got home. 
There had been a conspiracy among the villagers to take the 

1 Mr. FHhItr wu it tbU time ■apniatsodiiiK Ihc produclion of i French v«i^ 


horse out, if I had come to our own station, and draw me here. 
Mamie and Georgy had got wind of it and warned me. 

Divers birds sing here all day, and the nightingales all night, 
rhe place is lovely, and in perfect order. I have put five mir- 
rors in the Swiss chMet (where I write), and they reflect and 
refract in all kinds of ways the leaves that are quivering at the 
windows, and the great fields of waving com, and the sail- 
lotted river. My room is up among the branches of the trees ; 
md the birds and the butterflies fly in and out, and the green 
branches shoot in, at the open windows, and the lights and 
shadows of the clouds come and go with the rest of the com- 
pany. The scent of the flowers, and indeed of everything that 
is growing for miles and miles, is most delicious. 

Dolby (who sends a world of messages) found his wife much 
better than he expected, and the children (wonderful to relate !) 
perfect. The little girl winds up her prayers every night with 
a special commendation to Heaven of me and the pony — as 
if I must mount him to get there ! I dine with Dolby (I was 
going to write " him," but found it would look as if I were 
going to dine with the pony) at Greenwich this very day, and 
if your ears do not burn from six to nine this evening, then the 
Atlantic is a non-conductor. We are already settling — think of 
this ! — the details of my farewell course of readings. I am 
brown beyond belief, and cause the greatest disappointment in 
all quarters by looking so well. It is really wonderful what 
those fine days at sea did for me ! My doctor was quite broken 
down in spirits when he saw me, for the first time since my re- 
turn, last Saturday. " Good Lord ! " he said, recoiling, " seven 
years younger ! " 

It is time I should explain the otherwise inexplicable inclos- 
Qre. Will you tell Fields, with my love (I suppose he has n't 
used all the pens yet ?) that I think there is in Tremont Street 
a set of my books, sent out by Chapman, not arrived when I 
departed. Such set of the immortal works of our illustrious, 
etc., is designed for the gentleman to whom the inclosure is 
addressed. If T., F. and Co. will kindly forward the set (car- 
riage paid) with the inclosure to 's address, I will invoke 

Dew blessings on their heads, and will get Dolby's little daugh- 
ter to mention them nightly. 

" No Thoroughfare " is very shortly coming out in Paris, 
where it is now in active rehearsal. It is still playing here. 

docWid* 1 


but without Fechter, who has been very QL The doeXo^t di 
mifisal of him to Paris, however, and hid getting bett«r tbm, 
enables him to get up the play there. He &nd VVilkie mwdai 
many pieces of fitage^Sect here, th&t unless I am quite stUiSad 
with hit! report, I shall go over and trj my etage-managcnii 
hand at the Vaudeville Theatre. I particularly want the dnif 
ging and attempted robbing in the bedioom scene at ^e Switi 
inn to be done to the sound of a waterfall rifdng and falliog 
with the wind. Although in the very openiog of that ««« 
they speak of the waterfall and lifiten to it, nobody Ihonghl ri 
it« mysteriouH muAic. I could make it, with a good eUgi- 
carpflnter, in an hour. 

My dear love to Fields once again. Same to you and hia 
from Mamie and Georgy. I cannot teU you l>oth how I nan 
you, or how overjoyed I should be to see you here. 
Ever, my dear Mra. Fielda, 

Your most atToctionate friend. 


Gai>'8 Hii.1., Wtdnesdaj, Juii* 10, IM& 
Macrbadv, — Since my return from America, 
I have been bo overwhelmed with business that I have not had 
time f-y-u fo ivriN' U. yiiu. Vim m»y inia-inr wliat six moiitb* 
of airear are to dispose of ; added to this, Wills has leceitred a 
concussion of the brain (from an accident in the hunting-field^ 
and is sent away by the doctors, and strictly prohibited frMi 
even writing a note. Consequently all the busineEs and m<MWf 
details of " All the Year Round " devolve upon me. And I 
have had to get them up, for I have never had experience of 
them. Then I am suddenly entreated to go to Paris, to look 
after the French version of " No Thoroughfare " on the sti^ 
And I go, and come back, leaving it a great success, 

I hope Mrs. Macready and you have not abandoned the idea 
of coming here ? The expression of this hope is the principal, 
if not the only, object of this present note. May the amiaUs 
secretary vouchsafe a satisfactory reply I 

Katie, Mary, and Georgina send their very best love to your 
Katie and Mrs. Macready. The undersigned is in his usual 
brilliant condition, and indeed has greatly disappointed them at 
home here, by coming back "so brown and looking so welL" 


They expected a wreck, and were, at first, much mortified. 
But they are getting over it now. 

To my particular friends, the noble boy and Johnny^ I beg 
to be warmly remembered. 

Ever, my dearest Macready, 

Your most affectionate. 


Gad'8 Hill Place, Tuesdmr, July 7, 1868. 

My deab Fields, — I have delayed writing to you (and 
Mrs. Fields, to whom my love) until I should have seen Long- 
fellow. When he was in London the first time he came and 
went without reporting himself, and left me in a state of un- 
speakable discomfiture. Indeed, I should not have believed in 
his having been here at all, if Mrs. Procter had not told me of 
his calling to see Procter. However, on his return he wrote 
to me from the Langham Hotel, and I went up to town to see 
him, and to make an appointment for his coming here. He, 
the girls, and Appleton, came down last Saturday night and 
stayed until Monday forenoon. I showed them all the neigh- 
bouring country that could be shown in so short a time, and 
they finished ofi* with a tour of inspection of the kitchens, 
pantry, wine-cellar, pickles, sauces, servants' sitting-room, gen- 
eral household stores, and even the Cellar Book, of this illus- 
trious establishment. Forster and Kent (the latter wrote certain 
verses to Longfellow, which have been published in " The 

Times," and which I sent to D ) came down for a day, and 

I hope we all had a really " good time." I turned out a couple 
of postilions in the old red jacket of the old red royal Dover 
Road, for our ride ; and it was like a holiday ride in England 
fifty years ago. Of course we went to look at the old houses 
in Rochester, and the old cathedral, and the old castle, and 
the house for the six poor travellers who, "not being rogues 
or proctors, shall have lodging, entertainment, and fourpence 

Nothing can surpass the respect paid to Longfellow here, 
from the Queen downward. He is everywhere received and 
courted, and finds (as I told him he would, when we talked of 
it in Boston) the working-men at least as well acquainted with 
his books as the classes socially above them. . . . 

■wday I attended, as sponsor, the christening of 

and heir — a moat jolly baby, who held cm Ugbl 

I. -'b left whisker while the serrice was perfonnol | 

t time, lOO, his little sister, conaectiog me with the pocj, 

^ aad down the centre aisle, noiaily driving beneU m 

i\ ited animal, so that it went very hard with the apon- 


„ not yet recovered from that concuseion pf the hnuB. 

"4 all hifl work to do. This may account for mj aOt 

to devise a Christmas nnmber, but I Geem to half 

-y invention in America. In case you should find it> 

send it over. I am going up to town to-day to dim 

^ongfellow. And now, my dear Fields, you know til 

i>ut mo and mine. 

You are enjoying your holiday ? and are still thinking fonr- 
ICB of our Itoaton days, as I do ? and are maturing schenw 
' coming here next summer? A satisfactory reply to the but 
istion is particularly entreated. 

I am delighted to find you both so well pleased with tlw 
Blind Book scheme.' I said nothing of it to you whan « 
were together, though I had made up my mind, hecauee I 
wanted to come upon you with that little burst from a distance. 
It seemed aometbiiig like meeting ag.iln when I remitted the 
money and thought of your talking of it. 

The dryness of the weather is amazing. All the ponda Utd 
surface-wells about here are watflrless, and the poor people fflif* 
fer greatly. The people of this village have only one spring 
to resort to, and it is a couple of miles from many cottages. I 
do not let the great dogs swim in the canal, because the peopk 
have to drink of it. But when they get into the Medway it v 
hard to get them out again. The other day Bumble (the aea, 
Newfoundland dog) got into difficulties among some floating 
timber, and became frightened. Don (the father) was standing 
by me, shaking off the wet and looking on carelessly, whMi lU 
of a sudden he perceived something amiss, and went in wiUi t 
bound and brought Bumble out by the ear. The scientific way 
in which be towed him along was charming. 

Ever your loving. 

I A copj at T%e Old Ciriants Bkop, in nittA Irttrm for th? qh ot the blisl. 



6ad*s Hux Place, Hioham bt Bochksteb, Kent, 

Sunday, July 19, 1868. 

My deab Millais, — I received the inclosed letter yester- 
day, and I have — perhaps unjustly — some vague suspicions of 
it. As I know how faithful and zealous you have been in all 
relating to poor Leech, I make no apology for asking you 
whether you can throw any light upon its contents. 

You will be glad to hear that Charles Collins is decidedly 
better to-day, and is out of doors. 

Believe me always, faithfully yours. 


Gad's Hill Place, Hioham bt Rochester, Kent, 

Tuesday, July 21, 1868. 

My dear Letitia, — You will have had a telegram from 
me to-day. I received your sad news ^ by this morning's post. 
They never, without express explanation, mind '^ Immediate " 
on a letter addressed to the office, because half the people who 
write there on business that does not press, or on no business at 
all, so mark their letters. 

On Thursday I have people to see and matters to attend to, 
both at the office and at Coutts's, which, in Wills's absence, I 
cannot forego or depute to another. But, between ourselves, 
I must add something else : I have the greatest objection to 
attend a funeral in which my affections are not strongly and 
immediately concerned. I have no notion of a funeral as a 
matter of form or ceremony. And just as I should expressly 
prohibit the summoning to my own burial of anybody who was 
not very near or dear to me, so I revolt from myself appearing 
at that solemn rite unless the deceased were very near or dear 
to me. I cannot endure being dressed up by an undertaker as 
part of his trade show. I was not in this poor good fellow's 
house in his lifetime, and I feel that I have no business there 
when he lies dead in it. My mind is penetrated with sympathy 
and compassion for the young widow, but that feeling is a real 

1 On the death of Mr. Henry Austin, cousin and adopted child of Mr. and 
MiB. Austin. 




ing, and my (ilUmdance as a mourner would not be — lo m- 
ilii b(j to yoii, I know, but it would not be lo 
now full well that you cannot delpgate to me your 
and your associationa with the deceased, and the 

]re true anil tender they are the more invincible is my objet- 

in to l»come a form in the midst of the most awful realilie*. 

With love and condolence from (leorgiiia, Mary, and Katie, 
Believe me, ever your affcctionutc brothtr. 


Gad'b Hill. Wtdaenday, July 22, IMS. 

Mrs, Cattebmole, — Of coureo I will sign your 
picmorinl to the Academy. If you take either of the Landsetrs, 
sertainly tjike Wwin (1, St. John's Wood Road, N. W.). Bnt 
would he content with Frith, I have already spoken to 
n 1 1 hove t! at I can answer for him. I shall be ti 
lit. ^ ar Round Office, 26, Wellington Street, London, 
rt I from ele\en to three. Frith will be here on Satur. 
id I 1 ill be 1 ere too. I spnke to him a fortnight ago. 
1 him m>tt earnest in the cause. Jle said he felt 





1 ^^ 



W. H. WILLS 35S 

advaace sheets from England, so that there may be simiiltane- 
oua piibllcatioa in the two countries. And success in England 
ia of so much importance towards the achievement of success in 
America, that I greatly doubt whether previous puhlications in 
America would often be worth more to an American publisher 
or manager than simultaneous publication. Concerning the lit- 
erary man in Parliament who would undertake to bring in a 
Bill for such an amendment of our copyright law, with weight 
enough to keep his heart unbroken while he should be getting 
it through its various lingering miseries, all I can say ia — I 
decidedly don't know him. 

On that horrible Staplehurst day, I had not the slightest 
idea tliat I knew any one in the train out of my own coraport- 
ment. Mrs. Cowden Clarke • wrote me afterwards, telling me 
in the main what you tell me, and I was astonished. It is 
temarkable that my watch (a special chronometer) baa never 
gone quite correctly since, and to this day there sometimes 
oomes over me, on a railway — in a hansom cab — or any sort 
of conveyance — -for a few seconds, a vogiie sense of dread that 
I have no power to check. It comes and passes, but I cannot 
prevent its coming. 

Believe me, always faithfully yours. 


^^^P Frldiy, July 31. ISRS. 

My dear Wills, — I had snch a bard day at the office yes- 
terday, that I had not time to write to you before I left. So I 
^nit« to-day. 

I am very unwilling lo abandon the Christmas number, 
Uiough even in the cuse of my little Christmas books (which 
"Were immensely profitable) I let the idea go when I thought it 
"Wifl wearing out. Ever since I came home, I have hammered 
W it, more or less, and have been uneasy about it. I have 
1ie([ua something which is very droll, but it manifestly shapes 
itielf towards a book, and could not in the least adroit of bn«q. 
%iat shadowy approach to a congruous who\e on &* ■^'A ^ 
Ot^ eontributoTs wlucb they have ever echievei a.H. "Ou's^*^- 

Jtn- Cewdro CUrke wmtt to Cell Chutles PicVens Ihto \ieT wA«st, W«»i 
1 Jfew/to, »ad her fcretiwr, Mr. Alfred NotcHd, ■-eie»\»o\«\X««»'>^'**^ 


I have begun Bometbing else (uboanl the AineTican ntut 
steamer) ; but I don't like it, because the stories must comt 
limping ia after the old fashion, though, of course, what I iow 
done will be good for " A. Y. R." In Ehort, I bsFe cast ■benl 
with the greatest pains and patience, and I have been nrhallf 
unable to find what I want. 

And ^et I cannot quite make up my mind to give in without 
another figbt for it. I offered one hundred pounds' rewaid at 
Gad's to anybody who could suggest a notion to satisfy me. 
Charles Collins suggested one yesterday morning, in which tlien 
is something, though not much. I will turn it over and over, 
and try a few more starts on my own account. Finally, I swcai 
I will not give it up until August is out. \'ow registered, 

I am clear that a number by " various writers " would not 
do. If we have not the usual sort of number, we must call tb« 
current number for that date the Cbristmaa number, and make 
it as good as possible. 

I sit in the Chalet,* like Mariana in the Moated Grange, and 
to as much purpose, 

I am buying the freehold of the meadow at Gad's, and of an 
adjoining arable field, so that I shall now have about eight-and- 
twenty freehold acres in a ring-fence. No more now. 

I made up a very good number yesterday. Yon will see in 
it a very short article that I have called " Now ! " which is a 
highly remarkable piece of description. It is done by a new 
man, from whom I have accepted another article ; but he will 
never do anything so good again. 

£ver affectionately. 



Weddndar, Auguatae, 1868. 

My dear Cebjat, — I was happy to receive your eeteemed 
letter a few days ago. 

The severity of the wint«r in America (which was quite ex- 
ceptional even in that rigorous climate), combined with the hard 
work I had to do, tried me a good deal. Neuralgia and colds 

> A model o( a Swin 
Chulai Dkkcni » a lui 


beset me^ either by turns or both together, and I had often 
much to do to get through at night. But the sea voyage home 
again did wonders in restoring me, and I have been very well 
indeed, though a little fatigued, ever since. I am now prepar- 
ing for a final reading campaign in England, Scotland, and 
Ireland. It will begin on the 6th of October, and will prob- 
ably last, with short occasional intermissions, until June. 

The great subject in England for the moment is the horrible 
accident to the Irish mail-train. It is now supposed that the 
petroleum (known to be a powerful ansBsthetic) rendered the 
unfortunate people who were burnt almost instantly insensible 
to any. sensation. My escape in the Staplehurst accident of 
three years ago is not to be obliterated from my nervous sys- 
tem. To this hour I have sudden vague rushes of terror, even 
when riding in a hansom cab, which are perfectly unreasonable 
but quite insurmountable. I used to make nothing of driving 
a pair of horses habitually through the most crowded parts of 
London. I cannot now drive, with comfort to myself, on the 
country roads here ; and I doubt if I could ride at all in the 
saddle. My reading secretary and companion knows so well 
when one of these odd momentary seizures comes upon me in a 
railway carriage, that he instantly produces a dram of brandy, 
which rallies the blood to the heart and generally prevails. I 
forget whether I ever told you that my watch (a chronometer) 
has never gone exactly since the accident? So the Irish 
catastrophe naturally revives the dreadful things I saw that 

The only other news here you know as well as I ; to wit, 
that the country is going to be ruined, and that the Church is 
going to be ruined, and that both have become so used to being 
ruined, that they will go on perfectly welL 


Office of "All the Year Round," 
No. 26, Wellington Street, Strand, London, W. C, 
Saturday, September 26, 1868. 

My deabest Mamie, — I will add a line to this at the 
Athenaeum, after seeing Plom off, to tell you how he went 


ATmai.suit, QmiIv to flfac. 

I can honeitty report ihat he vent away, poor dear f elIoV| 
as veil as could possibly be expected. He was pale, and bal 
been crying, and (Harry said) had broken down in the railway 
carriage after leaving Higham station; bat only for a short 

Just before the train started he cried a good deal, bat not 
painfully. (Tell dear Georgy that I bought him his cigan.) 
These are hard, hard things, but they might have to be done 
without means or influence, and then they would be far hardn. 
God bless himi 


Gad's Hill Placs, Hioham bt Rochbstbb, Ksit, 

SondAy, October 4, 1868. 

Ht dbab Finlat, — I am much obliged to you in all 
friendship and sincerity for your letter. I have a great resped 
for your father-in-law and his paper, and I am much attadied 
to the Edinburgh people.^ You may suppose, therefore, that 
if my mind were not fully made up on the parliamentary ques- 
tion, I should waver now. 

But my conviction that I am more useful and more happy 
as I am than I could ever be in Parliament is not to be shaken. 
I considered it some weeks ago, when I had a stirring proposal 
from the Birmingham people, and I then set it up on a rock for 
ever and a day. 

Do tell Mr. Riissel that I truly feel this mark of confi- 
dence, and that I hope to acknowledge it in person in Edin- 
burgh before Christmas. There is no man in Scotland from 
whom I should consider his suggestion a greater honour. 

Ever youra. 


Poor Plom is gone to Australia. It was a hard parting at 
the last. He seemed to me to become once more my youngest 
and favourite little child as the day drew near, and I did not 

1 Alexander Russel had proposed in The ScoUman that Dickens should be a 
candidate for election to Parliament as representative of Edinburgh. 


think I could have Tteen so shaken. You were his idol to the 
hour of bia departure, and be asked me to tell you how much 
he wanted to bid you good-bye. 
Eindeet love from all. 

Ever heartily. 


Office ok "Ali, tiif. Thar Roc«n," 

Wednesdij-p Ottobcr T, 1808. 

My dear Fechter, — I got your letter sent to Gad's Hill 
this momiiig. Until I received it, I Bupposed the piece to have 
been put into English from your French by yoimg Ben. If 
I undertitand that the English is yours, then I say that it is 
extraordinarily good, written by one in another country, 

I do not read again in London until the 20th ; and then 
"Copperiield." But by that lime you will be at work your- 

Let us dine at six to-day, in order that we may not have to 
hurry for the comic dog. 

Ever faithfully. 

QusBN'B Hotel. UAnrHKBTBK, Suada)', Ootebcr 11, 1868. 

Mt DEARE9T Geohoy, — We had a fine audience last night 
in the Free Trade Hall, though not what we consider a large 
money-bouse, Tho let in Liverpool is extremely good, and wo 
sre going over there nt half-pa^t one. We got down here 
nlcAfiantly enough and iu good time ; so all has gone well, 
you see. 

Titiens, Sontley, and on opera company of that class arc at 
the theatre here. They have been doing very poorly in Man- 

There is the whole of my scanty news. I waa in wonderful 
Tmce last night, but croak a little this morning, after so ni<i<^h. 
Bpealdng in so very large a place. Othetw\s« 1 aia bW. tv^pS.. 
I End myself constantly thinking of I'lom, 



Adxlphi Hotbi^ LiYBBFOOi^ MondAj, Octobtf 1% VM. 

Ht DKABE8T Mamib, — OuT lets here are excellent^ and m 
sball have a great house to-night. We had a very fine and 
enthusiastic audience in the Free Trade Hall, at Manchester, 
on Saturday ; hut our first nights there never count up in 
money, as the rest do. Yesteiday, *' Charlotte/' Sainton, and 
Piatti stayed with us here; and they went on to Hull this 
morning. It was pleasant to he alone again, though they wen 
all very agreeahle. 

The exertion of going on for two hours in that imt^ftM^ 
place at Manchester heing very great, I was hoarse all day yes- 
terday, though I was not much distressed on Saturday night 
I am hecoming melodious again (at three in the afternoon) 
rapidly, and count on heing quite restored by a hasin of turtk 
at dinner. 

I am glad to hear about Armatage, and hope that a service 
begun in a personal attachment to Plom may go on welL I 
shall never be over-confident in such matters, I think, any 

The day is delicious here. We have had a blow on the 
Morsoy this morning, and exulted over the American steamers. 
With kind regard to Sir William and Lady Humphery. 


Adblphi Hotel, Livkbpool, Tuesday, October 13, 1S68. 

As I sent a line to Mary yesterday, I inclose you Alfred's 
letter. Please send it on to her when you next write to 

I have just now written to Mrs. Forster, asking her to ex- 
plain to Miss Forster how she could have an easy -chair or a sofa 
behind my side screen on Tuesday, without occasioning the 
smallest inconvenience to anybody. Also, how she would have 
a door close at hand, leading at once to cool passages and a 
quiet room, etc., etc., etc. It is a sad story. 

We had a fine house here last night, and a large turn-away. 
" Marigold " and " Trial " went immensely. I doubt if " Mari- 
gold '^ were ever more enthusiastically received. " Copperfield " 


and ''Bob'' to-night, and a large let. This notwithstanding 
election meetings and all sorts of things. 

My favourite room brought my voice round last night, and I 
am in considerable force. 

Dolby sends kindest regard, and the message : '' Everton 
toffee shall not be forgotten.'' 


Adslphi Hotel, Liverfool, Tharedaj, October 15, 1868. 

Mt deab Harry, — I have your letter here this morning. 
I inclose you another cheque for twenty-five pounds, and I write 
to London by this post, ordering three dozen sherry, two dozen 
port, and three dozen light claret, to be sent down to you. 

Now, observe attentively. We must have no shadow of 
debt. Square up everything whatsoever that it has been neces- 
sary to buy. Let not a farthing be outstanding on any account, 
when we begin together with your allowance. Be particular in 
the minutest detail. 

I wish to have no secret from you in the relations we are to 
establish together, and I therefore send you Joe Chitty's letter 
bodily. Reading it, you will know exactly what I know, and 
will understand that I treat you with perfect confidence. It 
appears to me that an allowance of two hundred and fifty 
pounds a year will be handsome for all your wants, if I send you 
your wines. I mean this to include your tailor's bills as well 
as every other expense ; and I strongly recommend you to buy 
nothing in Cambridge, and to take credit for nothing but the 
clothes with which your tailor provides you. As soon as you 
have got your furniture accounts in, let us wipe all those pre- 
liminary expenses clean out, and I will then send you your first 
quarter. We will count in it October, November, and Decem- 
ber ; and your second quarter will begin with the New Year. 
If you dislike, at first, taking charge of so large a sum as sixty- 
two pounds ten shillings, you can have your money from me 
half quarterly. 

You know how hard I work for what I get, and I think you 
know that I never had money help from any human creature 
after I was a child. You know that you are one of many 
heavy charges on me, and that I trust to your so exercising your 
abilities and improving the advantages of your past expensive 


edQcatkm as soon to diminiBh this ohaige. I mj no aiova ti 
that head. 

Whatever you do^ above all other things keep out of debt 
and confide in me. If you ever find yourself on the voge of 
any perplexity or difiiculty, come to me. You will never find 
me haid with you while you are manly and truthfuL 

As your brothers have gone away one by one, I have written 
to each of them what I am now going to write to you. Yoa 
know that you have never been hampered with religious forms 
of restraint, and that with mere unmeaning forms I have no 
sympathy. But I most strongly and affectionately impress upon 
you the priceless value of the New Testament, and the study 
of that book as the one unfaUing guide in life. Deeply respeet- 
ing it, and bowing down before the character of our Saviour, ti 
separated from the vain constructions and inventions of men, 
you cannot go very wrong, and will always preserve at heart a 
tame spirit of veneration and humility. Similarly I impraa 
upon you the habit of saying a Chnsttan prayer evexy m^ 
and morning. These things have stood by me all through my 
life, and remember that I tried to render the New Testament 
inteUigible to you and lovable by you when you were a meie 

And so Grod bless you. 

Ever your affectionate father. 


OrriCK OF "All the Tear Rocjtd," 
Monday, November 16, 1868. 

My dear Kent, — I was on the eve of writing to you. 

We thought of keeping the trial private ; but Oxenford has 
suggested to Chappell that he would like to take the opportu- 
nity of to-morrow night's reading, of saying something about 
" Oliver " in Wednesday's paper. Chappell has told Levy of 
this, and also Mr. Tompkin, of " The Post," who was there. 
Consequently, on Wednesday evening your charming article can 
come out to the best advantage. 

You have no idea of the difficulty of getting in the end of 
Sikes. As to the man with the invaluable composition ! my 
dear fellow, believe me, no audience on earth could be held for 
ten minutes after the girl's death. Give them time, and they 


would be leyengeful for havii^ had such a strain put upon 
them. Trust me to be right. I stand there, and I know. 

Concerning Harry, I like to guide the boys to a distinct 
choice, rather than to press it on them. That will be my 
course as to the Middle Temple, of which I think as you do. 

With cordial thanks for every word in your letter, 

Affectionately yours always. 

Kkhnbdy's Hotel, Edinburoh, Stuidaj, December 6, 1868. 

My dear Mrs. Lehmann, — I hope you will see Nancy 
with the light of a great audience upon her some time between 
this and May ; always supposing that she should not prove too 
weird and woeful for the general public. 

You know the aspect of this city on a Sunday, and how gay 
and bright it is. The merry music of the blithe bells, the 
waving flags, the prettily decorated houses with their draperies 
of various colours, and the radiant countenances at the windows 
and in the streets, how charming they are ! The usual prepa- 
rations are making for the band in the open air in the after- 
noon ; and the usual pretty children (selected for that purpose) 
are at this moment hanging garlands round the Scott monument, 
preparatory to the innocent Sunday dance round that edifice, 
with which the diversions invariably close. It is pleasant to 
think that these customs were themselves of the early Chris- 
tians, those early birds who did nH catch the worm — and no- 
thing else — and choke their young with it. 

Faithfully yours always. 

Kkmhedt*8 Hotel, Edinburgh, Sunday, December 6, 1868. 

We got down here to our time to the moment, and, consider- 
ing the length of the journey, very easily. I made a calculation 
on the road, that the railway travelling over such a distance 
involves something more than thirty thousand shocks to the 
nerves. Dolby did n't like it at all. 

The signals for a gale were up at Berwick, and along the 
road between there and here. It came on just as we arrived, 
and blew tremendously hard all night The wind is still very 

1 the sky ja bright and the i 
|. sp for the n 

very comfortably quartered. I fancy th»t the 
I will be on the whole better here tban in Glasgow, 

t 13 said to be very bad. But I think I shall tw 

( !t in both places as to the rtin being on the final ' 

.K going up Arthur's Seat presently, which will be a 
ill lor our fat friend. 

Scott, in a new Mephiatopheles hat, bafilca imagination and 

EEiaiEoy's Hotel, Edinburoii, Tuesday, DeninbtrS, 1868. 
DEAR WiLKiE, — I am hard at it here aa ubuhI, 
u iritb an audience so finely perceptive that the labour is 
uch aiminiBhed. I have got together in a very abort spacfl 
le conclusion of " Oliver Twist " that you suggeste>d, and am 
' trying it daUy with the object of rising from that blonlc state ol 
horror into a fierce and passionate msh for the end. As yet I 
cannot make a certain effect of it ; but when I shall have gone 
over it as many soore of tinies as over the rest of that reading, 
perhaps I may strike one out. 

I shall be very glad to hear when you have done your play, 
and I am glad to hear that you like the steamer. I agree with 
you about the reading perfectly. In No. 3 you will see an exact 
account of some places I visited at BatclifTe. There are two 
little instances in it of something comic rising up in the midst 
of the direst misery, that struck ma very humoroualf at the 

As I have determined not to do the " Oliver Murder " until 
after the 5th of January, when I shall ascertain its effect on a 
great audience, it is curious to notice how the shadow of its 
coming affects the Scotch mind. There was such a disposition 
to hold back for it here (until I return to finish in February) 
that we had next to no " let " when we arrived. It ait came 
with a msh yesterday. They gave me a most magnificent wel- 
come back from America last night. 

I am perpetually counting the weeks before me to be " read " 
through, and am perpetually longing for the end of them ; and 


yet I sometimes wonder whether I shall miss something when 
they are over. 

It is a very, very bad day here, very dark and very wet. 
Dolby is over at Glasgow, and I am sitting at a side window 
looking up the length of Prince's Street, watching the mist 
change over the Castle and murdering Nancy by turns. 

Ever affectionately. 

P. S. — I have 'read the whole of Fitzgerald's " Zero," and 
the idea is exceedingly well wrought out. 


Kennedy's Hotel, Edinburgh, 
Saturdaj, December 12, 1868. 

I send another " Scotsman " by this post, because it is really 
a good newspaper, well written, and well managed. We had 
an immense house here last night, and a very large turn-away. 

We have four guests to dinner to-day : Peter Fraser, Bal- 
lantyne, John Blackwood, and Mr. Eussel. Immense prepa- 
rations are making in the establishment, *' on account," Mr. 
Kennedy says, " of a' four yon chiels being chiels wha' ken a 
guid dinner." I inquired after poor Doctor Burt, not having 
the least idea that he was dead. 

My voice holds out splendidly so far, and I have had no 
return of the "American." But I sleep very indifferently 

It blew appallingly here the night before last, but the wind 
has since shifted northward, and it is now bright and cold. 
The Star of Hope, that picked up those shipwrecked people in 
the boat, came into Leith yesterday, and was received with 
tremendous cheers. Her captain must be a good man and a 
noble fellow. 


Kennedy's Hotel, Edinburgh, 
Monday, December 14, 1868. 

The dinner-party of Saturday last was an immense success. 
Bussel swore on the occasion that he would go over to Belfast 
expressly to dine with me at the Finlays'. Ballantyne informed 


me tbat he was going to send yoa some Scotch xemflmhmiee (I 
don't know what) at Christmas I 

The Edinhuigh houses ate veiy fine. l%e Glasgow room n 
a higy wandering place, with five prices in it, which makes it the 
more aggravating, as the people get into knots which they cibH 
hieak, as if they were afraid of one another. 

Foigery of my name is becoming popular. You sent me, thii 
morning, a letter from Russell Sturgis, answering a supposed 
letter of mine (presented by ''Miss Jefferies"), and assuring 
me of his readiness to give not only the ten pounds I asked br, 
but any contribution I wanted towards sending that lady ind 
her family back to Boston. 

I wish you would take an opportunity of forewarning Lady 
Tennent that the first night's reading she will attend is an 
experiment quite out of the way, and that she may find it rather 

The keeper of the Edinbui^gh Hall, a fine old soldier, pre- 
sented me, on Friday night, with the finest red camellia for my 
button-hole that ever was seen. Nobody can imagine how he 
came by it, as the florists had had a considerable demand for that 
colour from ladies in the stalls, and could get no such thing. 

The day is dark, wet, and windy. The weather is likely to 
be vile indeed at Glasgow, where it always rains, and where 
the sun is never seen through the smoke. We go over there 
to-morrow at ten. 


Cabrick*s Rotal Hotel, Glasgow, 
Tuesday, December 1&, 186S. 

It occurs to me that my table at St. James's Hall might be 
appropriately ornamented with a little holly next Tuesday. If 
the two front legs were entwined with it, for instance, and a 
border of it ran round the top of the fringe in front, with a little 
sprig by way of bouquet at each comer, it would present a 
seasonable appearance. 

If you will think of this, and will have the materials ready in 
a little basket, I will call for you at the office at half-past twelve 
on Tuesday, and take you up to the hall, where the table will 
be ready for you. 

No news, except that we had a great crush and a wonderful 
audience in Edinbui^h last night 



Carrick's RoTAi. HoTBL, Glaboow, 
Wednesday, December 16, 1868. 

This is to report all well, except that I have wretched nights. 
The weather is diaholical here, and times are very had. I cut 
^' Copperfield " with a hold dexterity that amazed myself and 
utterly confounded George at the wing ; knocking off that and 
" Bob " by ten minutes to ten. 

I don't know anything about the Liverpool banquet, except 
from the " Times." As I don't finish there in February (as 
they seem to have supposed), but in April, it may, perhaps, 
stand over or blow over altogether. Such a thing would be a 
serious addition to the work, and yet refusal on my part would 
be too ungracious. 

The density and darkness of this atmosphere are fearful. I 
shall be heartily glad to start for Edinburgh again on Friday 


Glasgow, Wednesday, December 16, 1868. 

My dear Mrs. Fields, — First, as you are curious about 
the Oliver murder, I will tell you about that trial of the 
same at which you ought to have assisted. There were about 
a hundred people present in all. I have changed my stage. 
Besides that back screen which you know so well, there are two 
large screens of the same colour, set off, one on either side, like 
the " wings " at a theatre. And besides these again, we have 
a quantity of curtains of the same colour, with which to close 
in any width of room from wall to wall. Consequently, the 
figure is now completely isolated, and the slightest action be- 
comes much more important. This was used for the first time 
on the occasion. But behind the stage — the orchestra being 
very large and built for the accommodation of a numerous chorus 
— there was ready, on the level of the platform, a very long 
table, beautifully lighted, with a large staff of men ready to 
open oysters and set champagne-corks flying. Directly I had 
done, the screens being whisked off by my people, there was 
disclosed one of the prettiest banquets you can imagine ; and 



when all the people came up, and the gay dresses of the ladies 
were lighted by those powerful ligbta of mine, the scene was 
exquisitely pretty; the hall heing newly decorated, and very 
elegantly ; and the whole looking like a great bed of flowers 
and diamonds. 

Now, you must know that all this company were, before the 
wine went round, unmistakably pale, and had horror-stricken 
faces. Next morning Harneaa (Fields knows — Rev. William 
— did an edition of Shakespeare — old friend of the Kemhlcs 
ami Mrs. Siddnns), writing to me about it, and saying it was 
"a most amazing and terrific thing," added, "but I am bound 
to tell you that I had an almost irresistible impulse upon me to 
srrctim, and that, if any one had cried out, I am certain I should 

have followed," He had no idea that, on the night, P , 

the great ladies' doctor, had taken me aside and said, " My 
dear Dickens, you may rely upon it that if only one woaian 
cries out when you murder the girl, there will be a contagion 
of hysteria all over this place." It is impossible io soflea il 
without spoiling it, and you may suppose that I am rather anx- 
ious to discover how it goes on the 5th of January ! ! ! We are 


in a certain Uncommercial, and also some Email reference to a 
name ratlier dear to you ? As an instance of how strangely 
something comic springs up in the midst of the direst misery, 
look to a succeeding Uncommercial, called "A Small Star in 
the East," published to-day, by the hye. I have descrihei], 
teilh sraetness, the poor places into which I went, and how the 
people liehaved, and what they eaid, I was wretched, looking 
on ; and yet the boiler-raaker and the poor man with the legs 
fill«d me with a sense of drollery not to bo kept down by any 

The atmosphere of this place, compounded of mists from the 
highlands and smoke from the town factories, ia crushing my 
eyebrows as I wril«, and it rains as it never does rain anywhere 
else, and always does rain here. It is a dreadful place, though 
much improved and possessing a deal of public spirit, lin- 
provoment is beginning to knock the old town of Edinburgh 
■bout, here and there ; but the Cnnongtit« and the most pictur- 
esque of the horrible courts and wynds are not to he easily 
spoiled, or mailo lit for the poor wretches who people them to 
lire in. Edinburgh is bo changed as to its notabilities, that I 
had the only three men left of the Wilson and Jeffrey time to 
dine with me there, last Saturday. 

I think you will find " Fatal Zero " (by Percy Fitzgerald) a 
very curious analysis of a mind, as the story advances. A new 
beginner in " A. Y. R." {Hon. Mrs. Clifford, Kinglake's sister), 
who wrote a story in the series just finished, called '' The 
Abbot's Pool," has juat sent me another story. I have a strong 
inprcasion that, with care, she will step into Mrs, Gaekell'a 
vacant place. Wills is no better, and I have work enough even 
ia that direction. 

Cod bless the woman with the black mittens for making me 
kngh so Ibis morning ! I take her to be a kind of public- 
nlrited Mrs. Spareit, and as such take her to my bosom. God 
naa you l)otb, my dear friends, in this Christmas and Xew 
Tear time, and in all times, seasons, and places, and send you 
to Gad's Hill with the next flowers ! 

Etqi youi moet aSeft^Xo^v^n. 



Kehneidt'b Butbl, EpiHEtuROH, Friday, D«r«m1wr 18. 186S. 

I am heartily glad to get back hera this afternoon. The daj 

s bright and cheerful, and the relief from Glasgow inexpressible. 

iThe alfectioriute re^jurd of the people exceeds all bounds, anil i.* 

|shown in every way. The manager of the railway being at the 

g the other night, wrote to me next morning, saying thai 

la large saloon should lie prepared for my journey up, if I would 

■ let him know when I purposed making the journey. On my 
lacceptiiig the ofTor he wrote again, eaying that he had inspc'cted 

r Northern aaloona," and, not finding them bo conTenient for 
leleeping in as the best English, had sent up to King's Cross for 
3 best of the latter; which I would please consider my own 

■ carriage as long as I wanted it. The audiences do ererj-thing 
mhmce me, and take as much paina with the readings u 


1 find your ChriBtmaa present (just arrived) to be a haggis 
iiid shortbread ! 


Kenukdt'h Hotkl, Edihbdboh, Friday, December IB, 180. 

I am heartily glad to get back here this aft«rnoon. Th« d*r 
is bright and cheerfiil, and the relief from Glasgow inexpresEihlp. 
The affectionate regard of the people exceeds alt bounds, and it 
abowc in ever; way. The manager of the railway being at tb 
reading the other night, wrote to me next morning, saying Ital 
a large saloon should be prepared for my journey up, if 1 would 
let hiiu know when I purposed making the journey. On m; 
accepting the offer he wrot« again, saying that be had inspectad 
'' our Northern saloons," and, not Hnding them so convenient fiv 
sleeping in as the best English, had sent up to King^s Croca (at 
the best of the latter : which I would please consider my an 
carrii^e as long as t wanted it. The audiences do eveTTthing ' 
but embrace me, and take as much pains with the readings ai 
I do. 

I find your Christmas preeent (just arrived) to be a haggit 
and shortlffead ! 


Gad's RtLL Place, Hioham bt Rocrbstkb. Enrr, 
Christmu Day, 1868. 

Mr DEAB Fabkinbon, — When your lett«r was delivered 
at " All the Year Bound " Office yesterday, I waa attending a 
funeral. It comes to hand here consequently to-day. 

I am diffident of addressing Mr. Gladstone on the subject of 
your desire to be appointed to the vacant Commissionership 
of Inland Revenue, because, although my respect for him and 
confidence in him are second to those of no man in Eng- 
land (a bold word at this time, but a truthful one), my personal 
acquaintance with him is very slight. But you may make, 
through any of your friends, any use you please of this letter, 
towards the end of bringing its contents under Mr. Gladstone's 

In expressing my conviction that you deserve the place, and 
are in every way qualified for it, I found my testimony upon as 
accurate a knowledge of youi character and abilities as any one 
can possibly have acquired. In my editorship both of " House- 


t I 







hold Words " and " All the Year Bound," you know very well 
that I have invariably offered you those subjects of political and 
social istereet to write upon, in wbich integrity, exactness, a 
Kniarkable power of generalising evidence and balancing facts, 
and a special clearneES ia stating the case, were indispensable on. 
the part of the writer. My confidence in your powers has never 
been miaplacoil, and through all our literary intercourse you 
iiave never been hasty or wrong. Whatever trust you have 
undertaken has been so completely discharged, that it has be- 
come my habit to read your proofs rather for my own edification 
than (as in other cases) for the detection of some slip bete or 
there, or the more pithy presentation of the subject. 

That your literary work has never interfered with the dis- 
charge of your official duties, I may asaume to he at least as 
well known to your colleagues as it is to me. It is idle to say 
tltnt if the post were in my gift you should have it, because you 
have had, for some years, moat of the posts of high trust that 
have been at my disposal. An excellent public servant in your 
literary sphere of action, I should be heartily glad if you could 
have this new opportunity of distinguishing yourself in the same 
character. And this is at least uuseliish in me, for 1 suppose I 
■bould then lose you ? 

Always faithfully youra. 


Ht dearest Flokn, — I write this note to-day because 
your going away ' ia much upon my mind, and because I want 
yoa to have & few parting words from me to think of now and 
at quiet times. I need not tell you that I love you dearly, 
very, very Borry in my heart to part with you. But 
is half made up of partings, and these pains must be 
It is my comfort and my sincere conviction that you 
- _ going to try the life for which you are beat fitted. I think 
^« freedom and wildness more suited to you than any experi- 
^«nt in a study or oihce would ever have been; and without 
training, you could have followed no o'Coat s\u^a^A« occNir 

you bare already wanted until honv 'haa 'Viecn. ». ««^i 
it purpose. I therefore ©xliort -yon to "e^Wi''*'^ 
' To AustnlU. 


tu t ih determiDBtioD to do whatever yoa liuTfi tods a 1 

wi ^ jO.. can do it. I was not ao oU as you are now i' 

1 first had «) win my food, and do this out of tUis determii* 
tion, and I have never slackened in it since. 

Never take a mean advantage of any one in an; transaction, 
and never be Lard upon people who are in your power. Trj- lo 
do to others aa you would have them do to you, and do not be 
discouraged if they fail aomotimea. It is much bett«r for yon 
that they should full in obeying the greatest rule laid down h; 
our Saviour than that you should. 

I put a New Testament among your books, for the very wnu 
reaaons, and with the vety same hopes, that made me write ui 
easy account of it for you, when you were a little child ; be- 
cause it is the best book that ever was or will be known in Uu I 
world, and because it teaches you the best lessons by which anj 
human creature who tries to be truthful and faithful to duty 
can possibly be guided. As your brothers have gone away, one 
by one, I have writUsn to each such words as I am now writing 
to you, and have entreated them all to guide themselves hj 
this book, putting aside the interpretations and InventionB ol , 

You will remember that you have never at home been wearied 
about religious obtiervances or mere formalities. I have alwayi 
been anxious not to weary my children with such things befon 
they are old enough to form opinions respecting them. Yoa 
will therefore understand the better that I now most solemnly 
impress upon you the truth and beauty of the Christian religion, 
aa it came from Christ Himself, and the impoasibility of youi 
going far wrong if you humbly but heartily respect it. 

Only one thing more on this head. The more we are in 
earnest as to feeling it, the less we are disposed to hold forth 
about it. Never abandon the wholesome practice of saying 
your own private prayers, night and morning. I have never 
abandoned it myself, and I know the comfort of it. 

I hope you will always be able to say in after life, that yon 
had a kind father. Yon cannot show your affection for him bo 
well, or make him so happy, as by doing your duty. 

Your affectionate father. 



Thb Athknjkum [Club], New Tear's Day, 1869. 

My dbar FnrLAY, — First my heart-felt wishes for many 
prosperous and happy years. Next, as to the mayor's kind 
intentions. I feel really grateful to him and gratified by the 
whole idea, but acceptance of the distinction on my part would 
be impracticable. My time in Ireland is all anticipated, and I 
could not possibly prolong my stay, because I mtcst be back in 
London to read on Tuesday fortnight, and then must immedi- 
ately set forth for the West of England. It is not likely, be- 
sides, that I shall get through these farewells before the end of 
May. And the work is so hard, and my voice is so precious, 
that I fear to add an ounce to the fatigue, or I might be over- 
weighted. The avoidance of gas and crowds when I am not in 
the act of being cooked before those lights of mine, is an essen- 
tial part of the training to which (as I think you know) I 
strictly adhere, and although I have accepted the Liverpool 
invitation, I have done so as an exception ; the Liverpool people 
having always treated me in our public relations with a kind of 
personal affection. 

I am sincerely anxious that the Mayor of Belfast should 
know how the case stands with me. If you will kindly set me 
straight and right, I shall be truly obliged to you. 

My sister-in-law has been very unwell (though she is now 
much better), and is recommended a brisk change. As she is a 
good sailor, I mean to bring her to Ireland with me ; at which 
she is highly delighted. 

Faithfully yours ever. 



Monday, January 4, 1869. 

My dsab Cbbj at, — I will answer your question first. 
Have I done with my farewell readings ? Lord bless you, no ; 
and I shall think myself well out of it if I get done by the end 
of May. I have undertaken one hundred and six, and have as 
yet only vanquished twenty-eight. To-morrow night I read in 
London for the first time ttie " Murder" from " Oliver Twist," 


which I have rearranged for the purpose. Next day I atari for 
Duhlin and Belfast I am just hack from Scotland for a few 
Christmas holidays. I go hack there next month ; and in the 
mean time and afterwards go everywhere else. 

Take my guarantee for it, you may he quite comfortaUe on 
the suhject of papal aspirations and encroachments. The £ng> 
lish people are in unconquerahle opposition to that churcL 
They have the animosity in the hlood, derived from the history 
of the past, though perhaps unconsciously. But they do sin- 
cerely want to win Ireland over if they can. They know that 
since the Union she has heen hardly used. They know that 
Scotland has her religion, and a very uncomfortahle one. They 
know that Scotland, though intensely anti-papal, perceives it to 
he unjust that Ireland has not her religion too, and has very 
emphatically declared her opinion in the late elections. They 
know that a richly endowed church, forced upon a people who 
don't helong to it, is a grievance with these people. They know 
that many things, hut especially an artfully and schemingly 
managed institution like the Romish Church, thrive upon a 
grievance, and that Rome has thriven exceedingly upon this^ and 
made the most of it. Lastly, the hest among them know that 
there is a gathering cloud in the West, considerahly higger than 
a man's hand, under which a powerful Irish-American body, 
rich and active, is always drawing Ireland in that direction; 
and that these are not times in which other powers would back 
our holding Ireland by force, unless we could make our claim 
good in proving fair and equal government. 

Poor Townshend charged me in his will " to publish without 
alteration his religious opinions, which he sincerely believed 
would tend to the happiness of mankind." To publish them 
without alteration is absolutely impossible ; for they are distrib- 
uted in the strangest fragments through the strangest note- 
books, pocket-books, slips of paper and what not, and produce a 
most incoherent and tautological result. I infer that he must 
have held some always-postponed idea of fitting them together. 
For these reasons I would certainly publish nothing about them, 
if I had any discretion in the matter. Having none, I suppose 
a book must be made. His pictures and rings are gone to the 
South Kensington Museum, and are now exhibiting there. 

Charley Collins is no better and no worse. Katie looks very 
young and very pretty. Her sister and Miss Hogarth (my joint 


houaekeepeTB) have been on duty this Christmas, and have had 
enough to do. Mj boys are now all dispersed in South Amer- 
ica, India, and Australia, except Charley, whom I have taken 
on at ''All the Year Bound" Office, and Henry, who is an 
undergraduate at Trinity Hall, and I hope will make his mark 
there. All well. 

The Thames Embankment is (faults of ugliness in detail 
apart) the finest publie work yet done. From Westminster 
Bridge to near Waterloo it is now lighted up at night, and has 
a fine effect. They have begun to plant it with trees, and the 
footway (not the road) is already open to the Temple. Besides 
its beauty, and its usefulness in relieving the crowded streets, it 
will greatly quicken and deepen what is learnedly called the 
"scour" of the river. But the Corporation of London and 
some other nuisances have brought the weirs above Twicken- 
ham into a very bare and unsound condition, and they already 
begin to give and vanish, as the stream runs faster and stronger. 

Your undersigned friend has had a few occasional reminders 
of his " true American catarrh." Although I have exerted my 
voice very much, it has not yet been once touched. In Amer- 
ica I was obliged to patch it up constantly. 

I like to read your patriarchal account of yourself among 
your Swiss vines and fig-trees. You would n't recognise Gad's 
Hill now ; I have so changed it, and bought land about it. 
And yet I often think that if Mary were to marry (which she 
won't) I should sell it and go genteelly vagabondising over the 
face of the earth. Then indeed I might see Lausanne again. 
But I don't seem in the way of it at present, for the older I get, 
the more I do and the harder I work. 

Yours ever affectionately. 


Offick of ''All thb Tkar Round,*' 
, Wednesday, January 6, 1869. 

My dear Mary, — I was more affected than you can easily 
believe, by the sight of your gift lying on my dressing-table on 
the morning of the new year. To be remembered in a friend's 
heart when it is sore is a touching thing ; and that and the 
remembrance of the dead quite overpowered me, the one being 
inseparable from the other. 


You may be sore that I ahall attach a spedal i ntcimt wti 
value to the beautiful pieeent, and shall wear it aa a Idnd of 
ehann. Grod bless you, and may we cany the frifmdship 
through many coming years I 

My preparations for a certain murder that I had to do last 
night lufcve rendered me unfit for letter-writing these last few 
days, or you would have heard from me sooner. The crime 
being completely off my mind and the Uood spUledy I am (like 
many of my fellow-criminab) in a highly edifying stale to- 

Ever belieye me, your affsctionate fiiaiML 


ToBQUAT, WednetdAj, Jatnarj tr, IMS. 

Mt DEAREST Mamie, — We have been doing immensely. 

This place is most beautiful, though colder now than one 
would expect This hotel, an immense place, built among pic- 
turesque broken rocks out in the blue sea, is quite delidous. 
There are bright green trees in the garden, and new peas a foci 
high. Our rooms are en suite, all commanding the sea, and 
each with two very large plate-glass windows. Everything good 
and well served. 

A pantomime was being done last night, in the place where 
I am to read to-night. It is something between a theatre, a 
circus, a riding-school, a Methodist chapel, and a cow-house. I 
was so disgusted with its acoustic properties on going in to look 
at it, that the whole unfortunate staff have been all day, and 
now are, sticking up baize and carpets in it to prevent echoes. 

I have rarely seen a more uncomfortable edifice than I thought 
it last night. 

At Clifton, on Monday night, we had a contagion of fainting. 
And yet the place was not hot. I should think we had from a 
dozen to twenty ladies borne out, stiff and rigid, at various 
times. It became quite ridiculous. 


Bath, Fridaj, Januanr 9S, 18S9. 

Mt dearest Georot, — You must not trust blank places 
in my list, because many have been, and will be, gradually 


filled up. After tbe Tuesday's reading in London, I have two 
for that same week in the country — Nottingham and Leicester. 
In the following week I have none ; but my arrangements are 
all at sea yet, for I must somehow do an " Uncommercial " in 
that week, and I also want to get poor Chaimcey's " opinions " 
to the printer. 

This mouldy old roosting-place comes out mouldily as to let, of 
course. I hate the sight of the bygone assembly rooms, and the 
Bath chairs trundling the dowagers about the streets. As to 
to-morrow morning in the daylight ! — 

I have no cold to speak of. Dolby sends kindest regard. 


Office, Wednesday, February 3, 1869. 

Dear Mrs. Lehmann, — Before getting your kind note, I 
had written to Lehmann, explaining why I cannot allow myself 
any social pleasure while my farewell task is yet unfinished. 
The work is so very hard, that every little scrap of rest and 
silence I can pick up is precious. And even those morsels are 
so flavoured with " All the Year Round," that they are not 
quite the genuine article. 

Joachim ^ came round to see me at the hall last night, and I 
told him how sorry I was to forego the pleasure of meeting him 
(he is a noble fellow !) at your pleasant table. 

I am glad you are coming to the " Murder " on the 2d of 
March. (The house will be prodigious.) Such little changes 
as I have made shall be carefully presented to your critical 
notice, and I hope will be crowned with your approval. But 
you are always such a fine audience that I have no fear on that 
head. I saw Chorley yesterday in his own room. A sad and 
solitary sight. The widowed Drake, with a certain ^w-coher- 
ence of manner, presented a blooming countenance and buxom 
form in the passage ; so buxom, indeed,^ that she was obliged to 
retire before me like a modest stopper, before I could get into 
the dining decanter where poor Chorley reposed. 

Faithfully yours alwaya 

P. S. — My love to Rudie. 

1 Herr Joseph Joachim, the renowned violinist. 




Glamiovt, Thunuia;, Fcbniarj SS, UO. 

I reoeived your letter at Edinburgh this moming. ] did not 
write to you yestetday, as tUere had been no reading oa Uk 
prarioiu night. 

The foot bears the futtg>ie wonderfully well, and tetlly 
occasiona me uo inconvenience beyond the necessity of wealing 
the big work of art. Syme saw me again this morning, uid 
utterly scouted the gout notion altogetlier. I think tfae Edin- 
burgh audience understood the " Murder " better last night than 
any audience that liae beard it yet. " Business" is enomous, 
and Dolby jubilant. 

It is a most deploruble afternoon here, deplorable even for 
Glasgow. A great wind blowing, and sleet driving before it b 
a storm of heavy blobs. We had to drive our train dead in the 
teeth of the wind, and got in here late, and are pressed tot 

Strange that in the North we have had absolutely no snov. 
There was a very thin scattering on the Pentlands for ta\ boor 

or two, but no more. 


Edihbdboh, Friday, Febnurr 91, IMI. 

Writing to-morrow morning would be all but impractiesUa 
for me ; would be quite bo for Dolby, who has to go to Uia 
agente and " settle up " in the mldet of his break&st 80 I 
write to^y, in reply to yonr note received at Glasgow tUs 

The foot condnctfl itself splendidly. We had a most mar- 
moug cram at Glasgow. Syme saw me again yesterday (bdon 
I left here for Glasgow), and repeated " Gout 1 " widi tb 
greatest indignation and contempt, several times. The aehing 
is going off as the day goes on, if it be worth mentioning agaik. 
The ride from Glasgow was charming this morning ; the son 
shining brilliantly, and the country looking beautifuL 

I told you what the Nortons were. Mabel Lowell ii a 
charming little thing, and very retiring in manner &nd axpiw- 



We shall have a scene here to-night, do doubt. The night 
before last, Baliantyne, unable to get in, had a seat behind the 
screen, and was nearly frightened oiF it by the " Murder." 
Every Testtge cf colour had left his face whea I came off, and 
he sat startiig over a glaas of champagne in the wUdeat way. I 
have utterly left off my chunipagne, and I think, with good 
results. Xutbing during the readings but a very little weak 
iced brandy and water. 

I hope you will find me greatly improved on Tuesday. 

IBiRHTNcnAH, FriJuy, Mnrch 5. 18fl9, 
lug is to send you my best love, and to wish you many and 
f happy returns of to-morrow, which I miraculously remem- 
O be your birthday. 
saw this montiiig a very pretty fan here. I was going to 
buy it aa a remembrance of the occasion, when I was checked by 
a dim misgiving that you had a fan not long ago from Chorley. 
Tell me wliat you would like better, and consider me yout 
debtor in that article, whatever it may be. 

I have had my usunl left boot on this morning, and have 
had an hour's walk. It was in a gale of wind and a simoom of 
duat, but I greatly enjoyed it. Immense enthusiasm at Wol- 
verhampton last night over " Marigold." Scott made a most 
aniAxing ass of himself yesterday. He reported that he had left 
behind somewhere three books — " Boots," " Murder," and 
" Gamp." We immediately telegraphed to the office. Answer, 
no books there. As my impression was that he must have left 
tbem at St^ Jnmes's Hall, we then arranged to send him up 
to London at seven this morning. Meanwhile (though not 
nrpiracfaed), he wept copiously and audibly. I had asked him 
over and over again, was he sure he had not put them in my 
tai^ge black trunk ? Too sure, too sure. Had n't opened that 
tnink after Tuesday night's reading. He opened it to get some 
idotba* out when I went to bed, and there the books were I 
Hb produced them with an air of Injuied BMi^i^ae, B&'iS.'w%\i»i^ 
put theo) thuie. 


QuxBH's HoTKL^ HLkJiomsTCR, Snndrnj, llarA 7, 1881. 

We have bad our sitting-room chimney afire this mornings 
and have had to turn out elsewhere to breakfast ; but the cham- 
ber has since been cleaned up, and we are reinstated. Man- 
chester is {for Manchester) bright and fresh. 

Tell Bussell that a crop of hay is to be got off the meadow 
this year, before the club use it. They did not make such use 
of it last year as reconciles me to losing another hay-crop. So 
they must wait until the hay is in, before they commence active 

Poor Olliffe ! I am truly sorry to read those sad words about 
his suflfering, and fear that the end is not far off. 

We are comfortably housed here, and certainly that immense 
hall is a wonderful place for its size. Without much greater 
expenditure of voice than usual^ I a little enlarged the action 
last night, and Dolby (who went to all the distant points of 
view) reported that he could detect no difference between it and 
any other place. As always happens now — and did not at 
first — they were unanimously taken by Noah Claypole's laugh. 
But the go, throughout, was enormous. Sims Keeves was doing 
Henry Bertram at the theatre, and of course took some of our 
shillings. It was a night of excitement for Cottonopolis. 

I received from Mrs. Keeley this morning a very good 
photograph of poor old Bob. Yesterday I had a letter from 
Harry, reminding me that our intended Cambridge day is the 
day next after that of the boat race. Clearly it must be 


QuEK2i'8 Hotel, Makcrrhtkr, 
Monday, March 8, 1869. 

My dear Mrs. Forster, — A thousand thanks for vour 
note, which has reached me here this afternoon. At breakfast 
this morning Dolby showed me the local paper with a paragraph 
in it recording poor dear Tennent's ^ death. You may imagine 
how shocked I was. Immediately before I left town this last 

1 Sir James Emerson Tennent. 



time, I hod &n unusually afTectionato letter from liim, inclosing 
one from Foret«r, and proposing the friendly dinner since np- 
painted for the 2J>th. I replied to him in the same spirit, 
and felt touched at the time by the gentle earnestness of his 
tone. It is remarkable that I talked of him a great deal 
yesterday to Dolby (who knew nothing of him), and that I re- 
verted to him again at night before going to bed — with no 
reason that I know of. Dolby was strangely impressed by thia 
when he ehowed mo the newspaper. 
God be with us all ! 

Ever your nffectionate. 


Office av "All tre TiiB Raauo," 

Saturdsy, March 13, ISSg. 

My deAB Latard, — Coming to town for a couple of days, 
from York, I find your lieautiful present.' With my heartiest 
congratulations on your marriage, accept my most cordial thanks 
for a posBession that I shall always prize foremost among my 
worldly goods; firstly, for your sake ; secondly, for its own. 

Nut one of these glasses shall be set on table until Mrs. 
I^yard is there, to touch with her lips the first champagne that 
uiy of them shall ever hold 1 This vow has been registered in 
solemn triumvirate at Gad's Hill, 

The first week in June will about see me through my present 
work, I hope. I came to town hurriedly to attend poor dear 
Emerson Tennent'a funeral. You will know how my mind 
went hock, in the York up-train at midnight, to Mount Vesuvius 
and our Neapolitan supper. 

I have given Mr. Hills, of Oxford Street, the letter of intro- 
daclion to you that you kindly permitted. He has immense 
locul influence, and could carry his neighbours in favour of any 
good design. 

My dear Layard, ever cordially yours. 
> Sam« VeneliiD glaaa cbuapigae tamblen. 

26, Wkllihqton StBEET, Tuewlav, Sbrrh 16, US9. 

Kt DKab Florence,^ — I have received your kiod noti 
thii raonung, and I hasten to thank you for it, and to assure 
jotir dear toother of our most coidial sympathy with her in hec 
pMt affliction, and in loving remembrance of the good man and 
«xeelletit friend we have lost. The tidings of his being veij 
ill indeed bad, of course, heen reported to me. Fot some days 
put I hail taken up the newspnper with sad misgivinge ; and 
tiiia morning, before I got your letter, they were realised. 

I loved bini truly. His wonderful gentleness and kindness, 
jean ago, when we had sickness in our household in Paris, has 
nerw been out of my grateful remembrance. And socially, hia 
imagB ia inseparable from some of the most genial and delightful 
friandljr hours of my life. I am almost ashamed to ^t such 
neolleetima hj the nde of your mother'a gnat benavaiBmt 
and grief, bat they spring oat of the folnMB of uy heart. 

Ifi^ Ood be irith bez and vtUi yon all I 

Erec yoma affectio— ta^. 

Qttku'b Hotkl, Hahchutsr, Sttmdair. Hueb SO, 1MB. 
Getting yours and its inclosure, Mary's' note, at two tbia 
afternoon, I write a line at once in order that yon may have it 
on Monday morning. 

The Theatre Boyal, Liverpool, will be a charming place to 
read in. Ladies are to dine at the dinner, and we bear it is to 
be a very grand affair. Dolby is doubtful whether it may not 
" hurt the business," by drawing a great deal of money in a&- 
otber direction, which I think possible enough. ^ Trade is veij 
bad here, and the gloom of the Freston strike seems to brood 
over the place. The Titiens Company have been doing wretch- 
edly. I should have a greater sympathy with them if they 
"-^ not practising in the next room now. 

' love to Letitia and Harriette,' wherein Dolby (highly gr»- 

by being held in remembrance) joins with the same to yon. 

I Floranc* Ollilfe, who vnt* to ■nnonne* the deatb of her (atlicT, Sir 

,pu OUUlB. 

■ His riiteT4ti4a«, Mn. Angaitu Dickaiu,alwa7(tw«kaiMTiilt«rat Oad'a 



Mahchbstxb, Sunday, March SI, 1869. 

Will you tell Mary that I have had a letter from Frith, in 
which he says that he will he happy to show her his pictures 
<< any day in the first week of April " ? I have replied that 
she will he proud to receive his invitation. His ohject in writ- 
ing was to relieve his mind ahout the '^ Murder/' of which he 
cannot say enough. 

Tremendous enthusiasm here last night, calling in the most 
tiiunderous manner after ''Marigold," and again after the 
'' Trial/' shaking the great hall, and cheering furiously. 

Love to all. 


Adklfhi Hotel, Liverpool, Sunday, April 4, 1869. 

By this post I send to Mary the truly affecting account of 
poor dear Katie Macready's death. It is as sorrowful as any- 
thing so peaceful and trustful can he I 

Both my feet are very tender, and often feel as though they 
were in hot water. But I was wonderfully well and strong, 
thank God I and had no end of voice for the two nights run- 
ning in that great Birmingham hall. We had enormous houses. 

So far as I understand the dinner arrangements here, they are 
much too long. As to the acoustics of that hall, and the posi- 
tion of the tahles (hoth as had as bad can be), my only consola- 
tion is that, if anybody can be heard, / probably can be. The 
honorary secretary tells me that six hundred people are to dine. 
The mayor, being no speaker and out of health besides, hands 
over the toast of the evening to Lord Dufferin. The town is 
full of the festival. The Theatre Eoyal, touched up for the 
occasion, will look remarkably bright and well for the readings, 
and our lets are large. It is remarkable that our largest let as 
yet is for Thursday, not Friday. I infer that the dinner dam- 
ages Friday, but Dolby does not think so. There appears to be 
great curiosity to hear the " Murder." (On Friday night last 
I read to two thousand people, and odd hundreds.) 

I hear that Anthony Trollops, Dixon, Loid Houghton, 
Lemon, Esquiros (of the ** Bevue des Deux Mondes "), and Sala, 

iiB to be called upon to epeak ; the last, for the newspaper pren 
All the Uvurpool notabilities are l« muster. And Manchestei 
ia to be rojiresented by its mayor with due formality, 

I had been this morning to look at St. George's Hall, and ' 
buggest what can be done to improve its acoustics. As usually 
happens in such cases, their most important arrangemente ars 
ftlroady made and unchangeablo. I should not have placed the 
tables in the committ«e'a way at all, and could certainly havs 
Jilar.i-il tiio duis to much greater advantage. So all the good I 
Could do WH.S to shuvv wbere banners could he hung with soma 
hope of rtopping echoes. Soch ia mj anwU news, ooon e& 
faftosted. We arrived here at tbree josteidaT sftemoou ; it {■ 
now mid-Hlay ; Cborle; has not yet appeared, bat ha had caHed 
at the local agenVs while I was at Birmingham. 

It is a euriouB little instance of the my in whkh thii^ fit 
together that there ia a ship of war in the Meraey, whose 1^ 
and so forth are to be braoght up to St Goodie's HsU for tba 
dinner. She is the Donegal, of which ^jntsr told me ha had 
just been captain, when he told me all abont Sydney at Bath. 

One of tfM pleasant«st things I hare experienced hen this 
time is the manner in which I am stopped m the streets hf 
working men, who want to shake hands with me, and tell me 
they know my books. I never go out but this happens. Down 
at the docks just now, s cooper with a fearful stutter preaented 
himself in this way. His modesty, combined with a conviction 
that if he were in earnest 1 would see it and would n't repel 
him, made up as true a piece of natural politenesa as I ever saw. 

Adslfbi Hotsi, Ijverfooi, Friday, April B, IMS. 
Hr DXAB Fields, — The faithful Eussia will bring this ont 
to yoa, as a sort of warrant to take you into loving custody and 
bring yon back on her retam trip. 

I rather think that when the 12th of June shall have shsken 
■ae shaekles,^ there tciU be borage on the lawn at Gad's. 
hearths desire in that matter, and in the minor particD- 
]obham Park, Rochester Castle, and Canterbury, shall 
•d, please God 1 The red jackets shall turn out ^ain 
I tain|Hk»4ixid, and picnics among the cherry-orcharda 
1 Hm tMdIac*. 


and hop-gardens shall be heard of in Kent. Then, too, shall 
the Uncommercial resuscitate (being at present nightly mur- 
dered by Mr. W. Sikes) and uplift his voice again. 

The chief officer of the Russia (a capital fellow) was at the 
Beading last night, and Dolby specially charged him with the 
caie of you and yours. We shall be on the borders of Wales, 
and probably about Hereford, when you arrive. Dolby has 
insane projects of getting over here to meet you ; so amiably 
hopeful and obviously impracticable, that I encourage him to 
the utmost. The regular little captain of the Russia, Cook, is 
just now changed into the Cuba, whence arise disputes of seni- 
ority, etc. I wish he had been with you, for I liked him very 
much when I was his passenger. I like to think of your being 
in my ship I 

and have been taking it by turns to be " on the 

point of death," and have been complimenting one another 
greatly on the fineness of the point attained. My people got a 

yery good impression of , and thought her a sincere and 

earnest little woman. 

The Russia hauls out into the stream to-day, and I fear her 
people may be too busy to come to us to-night. But if any of 
them do, they shall have the warmest of welcomes for your 
sake. (By the bye, a very good party of seamen from the 
queen's ship Donegal, lying in the Mersey, have been told off 
to decorate St. Greorge's Hall with the ship's bunting. They 
were all hanging on aloft upside down, holding to the giganti- 
cally high roof by nothing, this morning, in the most wonder- 
fully cheerful manner.) 

My son Charley has come for the dinner, and Chappell (my 
Proprietor, as — is n't it Wemmick ? — says) is coming to-day, 
and Lord Dufferin (Mrs. Norton's nephew) is to come and 
make the speech. I don't envy the feelings of my noble friend 
when he sees the hall. Seriously, it is less adapted to speaking 
than Westminster Abbey, and is as large. • . . 

I hope you will see Fechter in a really clever piece by Wilkie. 
Also you will see the Academy Exhibition, which will be a very 
good one ; and also we will, please God, see everything and 
more, and everything else after that. I begin to doubt and 
fear on the subject of your having a horror of me after seeing 
the murder. I don't think a hand moved while I was doing 
it last nighty or an eye looked away. And there was a fixed 


oxpreMion of horror of me, all over the theatre, which eould not 
have heen Burpassed if I had heen going to he hanged to that 
red velvet tahle. It is quite a new sensation to be execrated 
with that unanimity ; and I hope it will remain so ! 

[Is it lawful — would that woman in the black gaiters, green 
▼eU, and spectacles, hold it so — to send my love to the pre^ 
M ?] 

Pack up, my dear Fields, and be quick. 

Ever your most affectioDate. 


Imperial Hotel, Blackpool, Wednesday, April SI, 1889. 

I send you this hasty line to let you know that I have come 
to this sea-beach hotel (charming) for a day^s rest I am much 
better than I was on Sunday, but shall want careful looking to, 
to get through the readings. My weakness and deadneas are 
all on the left aide, and if I don't look at anything I try to 
touch with my left hand, I don't know where it is. I am in 
(secret) consultation with Frank Beard ; he recognises, in the 
exact description I have given him, indisputable evidences of 
overwork, which he would wish to treat immediately. So I 
have said, " Go in and win." 

1 have had a delicious walk by the sea to-day, and I sleep 
Houndly, and have picked up amazingly in appetite. My foot 
is greatly better too, and I wear my own boot. 


Preston, Thursday Evening, April 32, 1869. 

Thn^f be in the least alarmed, l^ard has come down, and 
instantly echoes my impression (perfectly unknown to him), 
that the readings must be stopped. I have had symptoms that 
must not bo disregarvled. I go to Liverpool to-night with him 
(to get away from here), and proceed to the office to-morrow. 


Prestox, April i2, 1869. 

Don't say anything about it, but the tremendously severe 
nature of thb work is a little shaking me. At Chester last 


Sunday I found myself extremely giddy, and extremely uncer- 
tain of my sense of touch, both in the left leg and the left hand 
and arm. I had been taking some slight medicine of Beard's ; 
and immediately wrote to him describing exactly what I felt, and 
aaking him whether those feelings could be referable to the 
medicine ? He promptly replied, '' There can be no mistaking 
them from your exact account. The medicine cannot possibly 
have caused them. I recognise indisputable symptoms of over- 
work, and I wish to take you in hand without any loss of 
time." They have greatly modified since, but he is coming 
down here this afternoon. To-morrow night at Warrington I 
shall have but twenty-five more nights to work through. If he 
can coach me up for them, I do not doubt that I shall get all 
light again — as I did when I became free in America. The 
foot has given me very little trouble. Yet it is remarkable that 
it is the left foot too ; and that I told Henry Thompson (before 
I saw his old master Syme) that I had an inward conviction that 
whatever it was, it was not gout. I also told Beard, a year after 
the Staplehurst accident, that I was certain that my heart had 
been fluttered, and wanted a little helping. This the stetho- 
scope confirmed ; and considering the immense exertion I am 
undergoing, and the constant jarring of express trains, the case 
seems to me quite intelligible. Don't say anything in the 
Gad's direction about my being a little out of sorts. I have 
broached the matter of course ; but very lightly. Indeed, there 
is no reason for broaching it otherwise. 


Preston, Thursday, April 22, 1869. 

My beab Sir, — I am finishing my Farewell Readings, — 
to-night is the seventy-fourth out of one hundred, — and have 
barely time to send you a line to thank you most heartily for 
yours of the 30th January, and for your great kindness to 
Alfred and Edward. The latter wrote by the same mail, on 
behalf of both, expressing the warmest gratitude to you, and 
reporting himself in the stoutest heart and hope. I never can 
thank you sufficiently. 

You will see that the new Ministry has made a decided hit 
with its Budget, and that in the matter of the Irish Church it 
has the country at its back. You will also see that the 



'■ Reform League " has dissolved itseli, indisputably betaoae it 
I iMcame aware that the people did not want it. 

I tbink the gijnerul feeling in England is a desire to get tlie 
I Irish Church out of the wiij of many social reforms, and to 
I bavD it done irif/i as already done for. I do not in the \easl 
I believe myself that agrarian Ireland is tc be pacified by any 
I such means, or can have it got out of its mistaken bead that 
I the land i^ of riglit the peasantry's, and that every man irho 
iwns land bus stolen it and is therefore to be shot. But tlut 
3 not the question. 

The clock strikes post-time as I write, and I fear to write 
nore, lest, at this distance from London, 1 should imperil the 
I next mail. 

Cordially yours. 


OrricB OP "All thb Year Rocxd," 

MDnilay, Miy 3, 1369. 
My dear Mr. Chappell, — I am really touched by yonr 
:i most truthfully assure you that your part ii 


MR. BC8DEN 387 

Just aB three days' repose on the Atlantic steamer made me, 
in ray altered apjjearance, the amazement of the captain, bo this 
last week has set me up, thank God, in the most wonderful 
manner. The sense of exhauation seems a drenm already. Of 
couree I shall train myself carefully, nevertheless, all through 
the summer and autumn. 

I beg to send my kind regards to Mrs. Chappell, and I shall 
hope to see her and you at Teddington 'm the long bright days. 
It would disappoint me indeed if a lasting friendship did not 
come of our business relations. 

In the spring I trust I shall be able to report to you that I 
am ready to take my Farewella in Iiondou. Of this 1 ara pretty 
certain : that I never will take them at all, uulesa with you on 
your own conditions. 

With an affectionate regard for you and your brother, believe 
me always, 

I Very faithfully yours. 

Kt dear Mb. Euhden, — As I dare say some exaggerated 
bllte of my having been very ill have reached you, I begin 
Etbe tme version of the case, 
nare say I should have been very ill if I had not suddenly 
pped my Farewell Readings when there were yet five-and- 
twenty rcraMuing to be given. I was quite exhausted, and was 
vramed by the doctors to stop (for the time) instantly. Acting 
on tbe advice, and going home into Kent for rest, I immediately 
began to recover, and within a fortnight was in the brillisat 
coudition in which I can now — thank God — report myself. I 

I cannot thank you enough for your care of Plorn, I wsa J 

quit« prepared for his not settling down without a lurch or two. ^| 

2 still hoj>e that he may take to colonial life. ... In his letter ^^ 

to me about his leaving Ihe station to which he got throu.^ ^^ 

your kindness, he cipresses his gratitude to ^om i^\\» »* H 
Ktroagly as if he hmi made a wom^Ptful swcceaB, i^ni »«;«»& \» H 
bave uequired no distaste for anything but t\v6 otv« w^w''^'^"'^ '^VB 

■ be wrote that betrayed letter. But kno'«vi%^^*'***^'^jH 
itrf him fully. ^| 


o ' all our public news, auch as it is, at least w wK 
a .o. lA Bj people here (of whom I am one) do not F 
tt""- lOok of jimericaij matters. 

Hial I mogt fear is that the perpetual bluster of a partj in 
itates will at last set the patieut British liack up. And 

iiiix people begin to bluster too, and there Bhoulii come into 
itence an exasperating war-patty ou both sides, there will hi 
great danger of a daily widening breach. 

The first shriek of the first engine that traverses the San 
Francisco Railroad from end to end will be a death warning to 
the disciples of Jo Smith. The moment the Mormon bnhble 
gets touched by neighbours it will break. Similarly, the red 
man's course is very nearly run. A scalped stoker is the out- 
ward and visible eign of hia utter extenaination. Not Quakers 
snough to reach from here to Jerusalem will save him by the 
term of a single year. 

I don't know how it may be with you, but it is the fashion 
here to be absolutely certain that the Emperor of the French is 
fastened by Providence and the fates on a throne of adamant 
expressly constructed for him since the foundations of the oni- 
Terse were laid. 

He kuowB better, and bo do the police of Paris, and both 
powers must be grimly entertained by the resolute British 
belief, knowing what they have known, and doing what they 
have done through the lost ten years. What Victor Hugo coltti 
" the drop-ciirtaio, behind which is constructing the great last 
act of the French Revolution," has been a little shaken at the 
bottom lately, however. One seems to see the feet of a nther 
lafge chorus getting ready. 

I inclose a letter for Plora to your care, not knowing bow to 
address him. Forgive me for so doing (I write to Alfred 
direct), and believe me, my dear Mr. Rusden, 

Yours faithfully and much obliged. 



Wednesday, Utf 38, 1889. 
Ht dkab Lord Russell, — I have delayed answering 
am kind letter, in order that you might get home before I 
■/rate. I am happy to report myself quit« well ^ain, and I 

W. H. WILLS 889 

shall be charmed to come to Pembroke Lodge on any day that 
may be most convenient to Lady Bussell and youiself after the 
middle of June. 

You gratify me beyond expression by your reference to the 
Liverpool dinner. I made the allusion to you with all my heart 
at least, and it was most magnificently received. 

I beg to send my kind regard to Lady Bussell, with many 
thanks for her remembrance, and am ever, 

My dear Lord Bussell, faithfully yours. 


Opfics op ''All thb Tbar Roovd/' 
Tharadajr, June 34, 1889. 

My dear Wills, — At a great meeting ^ compounded of your 
late " Chief," Charley, Morley, Grieve, and Telbin, your letter 
was read to-day, and a very sincere record of regret and thanks 
was placed on the books of the great institution. 

Many thanks for the suggestion about the condition of 
churches. I am so aweary of church questions of all sorts that 
I am not quite clear as to tackling this. But I am turning it 
in my mind. I am afraid of two things : firstly, that the thing 
would not be picturesquely done; secondly, that a general 
cucumber-coolness would pervade the mind of our circulation. 

Nothing new here but a speaking-pipe, a post-box, and a 
mouldy smell from some forgotten crypt — an extra mouldy 
smell, mouldier than of yore. Lillie sni£fs, projects one eye 
into nineteen hundred and ninety-nine, and does no more. 

I have been to Chadwick's, to look at a new kind of cottage 
he has built (very ingenious and cheap). 

We were all much disappointed last Saturday afternoon by a 
neighbouring fire being only at a carpenter's, and not at Drury 
Lane Theatre. Ellen's ^ child having an eye nearly poked out 
by a young friend, and being asked whether the yoimg friend 
was not very sorry afterwards, replied, '^ No. She was n't. / 

London execrable. 

Ever affectionately yours. 

P. S. — Love to Mrs. Wills. 

1 Of the Gofld of Litentnre and Art 
s Hie hoiuekeeper at the oiBc«. 


ever read. I write with its impression newly and strongly upon 
me, and feel absolutely sure that I am not mistaken. 

Believe me, faithfully youis always. 


Gad's Hill Place, Higram bt Rochsstkb, Kksit, 

TaeidAj, Angust S, 18S0. 

Mt dbab Mb. Ollieb, — I am very sensible of the feeling 
of the (Tommittee towards me ; and I receive their invitatkm 
(conveyed through you) as a most acceptable mark of their eon- 

But I have a very strong objection to speech-making beside 
graves. I do not expect or wish my feeling in this wise to 
guide other men ; still, it is so serious with me, and the idea 
of ever being the subject of such a ceremony myself is so repug- 
nant to my soul, that I must decline to officiate. 

Faithfully yours always. 


Oppicb op "All thb Tkab Bouvd^*' 
No. 96, Wklli2«otox Strbet, Strand, Londox, W. C, 

Tueaday, Augutt 3, 1869. 

My dearest Mamie, — I send you the second chapter of 
the remarkable story. The printer is late with it, and I have 
not had time to read it, and as I altered it considerably here 
and there, I have no doubt there are some verbal mistakes in 
it. However, they will probably express themselves. 

But I offer a prize of six pairs of gloves — between you, and 
your aunt, and Ellen Stone, as competitors — to whomsoever 
will tell me what idea in this second part is mine. I don't 
mean an idea in language, in the turning of a sentence, in any 
little description of an action, or a gesture, or what not in a small 
way, but an idea, distinctly affecting the whole story as I found 
it. You are all to assume that I found it in the main as you 
read it, with one exception. If I had ^vritten it, I should have 
made the woman love the man at last. And I should have 
shadowed that possibility out, by the child's bringing them a 
little more together on that holiday Sunday. 

But I did n't write it. So finding that it wanted something, 
I put that something in. What was it ? 

Love to Ellen Stone. 



Gad's Hill Place, Hioham bt Rochbstek, Kent, 

Friday, August 13, 1869. 

My dear Mr. Byland, — Many thanks for your letter. 
I have very strong opinions on the subject of speech ification, 
and bold that there is, everywhere, a vast amount too much of 
it. A sense of absurdity would be so strong upon me, if I got up 
at Biimingham to make a flourish on the advantages of educa- 
tion in the abstract for all sorts and conditions of men, that I 
should inevitably check myself and present a surprising incar- 
nation of the soul of wit. But if I could interest myself in the 
practical usefulness of the particular institution ; in the ways of 
life of the students ; in their examples of perseverance and deter- 
mination to get on ; in their numbers, their favourite studies, 
the number of hours they must daily give to the work that 
must be done for a livelihood, before they can devote them- 
selves to the acquisition of new knowledge, and so forth, then 
I could interest others. This is the kind of information I 
"want. Mere holding forth ''I utterly detest, abominate, and 

I fear I shall not be in London next week. But if you will 
kindly send me here, at your leisure, the roughest notes of such 
points as I have indicated, I shall be heartily obliged to you, 
and will take care of their falling into shape and order in my 
mind. Meantime I " make a note of " Monday, 27th Septem- 
ber, and of writing to you touching your kind offer of hospitality, 
three weeks before that date. 

I beg to send my kind regard to Mrs. and Miss Byland, and 
am always. Very faithfully yours. 

as, Welliwotow Street, London, Thursday, September 2, 1869. 
My dear Bobert Lytton, — " John Acland " is most 
willingly accepted, and shall come into the next monthly part. 
I shall make bold to condense him here and there (according 
to my best idea of story-telling), and particularly where he 
makes the speech. And with the usual fault of being too long, 
here and there, I think you let the story out too much, — 
prematurely, — and this I hope to prevent artfully. I think 

yoitr title open to the e 


The Disapi* 

L, oad therefoie propontg 

r Joux AcxASD. 

Ttiu will leave the roader in doubt whether he lealfy an ' 
murdered, until the end. 

I am fiorry you do not pursue the other prose series. Yoo 
can do n gcvut ileul more than you think for, with whaterer jn 
touch; aud you know where to tind a lirnily attached ud 
ndmirinK friend always r«ady to take the field wjlb you, ud 
always proud to see your plume among the feathets in tbt 

Your Bccnunt of ray dear IJofHn ' is highly charming: I had 
been trouhlrd with a misgiving thul he was good. Itlay bit 
Hhadow iniv*'r \>o more correct ! 

I wiah I oonld haTo yoa at the mnider from " Oliver Tviit" 
I am alwaTs, my dear Bobert Ljtton, 

Aflectioastel; jooi friend. 

Traj gire n^ kindeat legaide to FaBcinetum Fle^l^, wka 
(I have no doubt) has by this time half a dosen nev naiiw. 
feebly expressive of his great merita. 


Gad's Hill Placb, Hioham bt KocHuraa, Eurr, - 
HoniUr, September e, 1B$9. 

MroKAB Mr. Bylajtd, — I am sorry to find — I hadafore- 
ehadowing of it some weeks ago — that I shall not be abJe to 
profit by your kind offer of hospitality when I come to Bir- 
mingham for our Institution. I must come down in time for a 
quiet dinner at the hotel with my " Readings " secretary, Mr. 
Dolby, and must away next morning. Besides having a great 
deal in hand just now (the title of a new book among other 
things), I shall have visitors from abroad here at the time, and 
■eveiely claimed by my daughter, who indeed is disloy^ to 
ingham in the matter of my going away at all. Pray rep> 
me to Mrs. Byland as the innocent victim of circum- 
I, and as sacrificing pleasure to the work I have to do, 

and to the tnimng tmder which alone I ran do it without feel- 
ing it. 

Yqu will see from the iucloaed that I am in full force, and 
going to finish ray readings, please God, after Christmae. I am 
in the hope of receiving your promised notes in due course, and 
continua in the irreverent conditiou in which I last reported 
myself on the subject of speech-making. Now that men not 
I uiily make the nights of the session hideous by what the 
Americans call " orating " in Parliament, but trouble the peace 
of the vacation by saying over a^*aiti what they said there (with 
the addition of what they ilid n't say there, and never will 
have the courage to say there), I fetl indeed that silence, like 
gold across tlie Atlantic, is a rarity at a premium. ^^^J 

Faithfully yours alwn^^^H 


Orrici OP "All the Tbar Rocsij," 1 

36, WcLunoTos Stkkbt, Sthasd, Londoh, 
Fririar, Octaber 1, 18»S. 
Mr DBAB Robert Lyttos, — I am assured by a correapon- 
udiit that " John Aolaud" has been done before. Said corre- 
spondent has evidently read the story — and ia almost confident 
in " Chambera'a Journal." This ia very unfortimatp, but of 
course cannot be helped. There ia always a poseibUity of auoh 
a malignant conjunction of stars when the story is a true one. 

In the case of a gowl story — as this is — liable for years to 
be told at table — as this was — there is nothing wonderful ia 
nich a mischance. Let us shuffle the cards, as Sancho says, 
and begin again. 

You will nf couree understand that I do not tell you this by 
wiqr of complaint. Indeed, I should not have mentioned it at 
fcU, hut OS an explanation to you of my reason for winding the 
story up (which I have done to-day) as expeditiously as possi- 
ble. Vou might otherwise have thought mo. on reading it as 
published, a little hard on Mr. Doilly. I have not had time to 
direct nearch to he made in " Chambers's ; " b\il a,5 Iq \!Rft TOi\w 
part of the atorj- having been printed aomew\ieM,\ Vmi^ i\o\. 
the fMiatent doubt. And I believe my coneapowXcwX Ui "ftft ^at 
right «» toth^ where. Yon covild not belt, a ai^v moTft Wi«i 
,»^Mndtbw^o«> via not ba troubl<>d\v Vt La^ 


The mora I get of your writing, the better I Bhall iM 

Do believe me to be, as I am, 

Your genniiw admlier and affectionate friend. 

dcxctiii. william cbables kest 

Ofvici of "Am. thh Teak Rotsr** 
Tbunda^, OcDlier 7, ISfiB. 

Ht DKAB Kent, — I felt that you wouM be deeply dinpi 
pointed. I thought it better not to make the first sign whU 
;ou were depressed, but my mind has been constantly with yoiL 
And not mine alone. You cannot Uiink with what affection aoA' 
sympathy you have lioen made the Buly'ect oi our family dinnex 
talk at Gad's Hill iheae last three days. Nulhing cnukl exceed 
the interest of my daughters and my sister-iu-hw. or the m^ 
neatness of their feeling about it. I havo been really touched 
by its warm and genuine expreedon. 

Cheer up, my tiear fellow; cheer up, for God's sake. That 
IB, lor the sake of all that is good in you and around you. 

Ever your affectionate friend. 


QaD'h Hill, Moadav, Oclobf r 18. 1889. I 

Mt dkahest Mackeady, — I duly received your letter 
nearly a fortnight ^o, with the greatest interest and pleasure. 
Above all things I am delighted with the prospect of seeing 
you here next summer; a prospect which has been received 
with nine times nine and one more by the whole house. Yon 
will hardly know the place again, it is so changed. You are 
not expected to admire ; but there is a, conservatory building at 
this moment — be still, my soul ! 

This leaves me in the preliminary agonies of a new book, 
which I hope to begin publishing (in twelve numbers, not 
twenty) next March. The coming readings being all in Lon- 
don, and being, after the tirst fortnight, only once a week, will 
divert my attention very little, I hope. 

Harry has just gone up to Cambridge again, and I hope will 
get a fellowship in good time. 

Wills is much gratified by your remembrance, and sends yon 


He wishes me to represent that he ia very 
little to be pitied. That he eufTers no pain, scarcely iiicon- 
renbnce, eveu, so long aa he ia idle. That he likes idleness 
exceedingly. He has bought n country place by Welwjn in 
Hertfordshire, near Lj-tton's, and takes possession presently. 

My boy Sydney is now a second lieutenant, the youngest in 
the Service, I believe. He has the highest testimonials as an 

You may he quite sure there will he no international racing 
in American waters. Oxford knows better, or 1 ain mistaken. 
The Harvard crew were a very good set of fellows, and very 

Ryland of Birmingham does n't look a day older, and was 
full of interest in you, and asked me to remind you of him. 
By the hye, at Elkington'a I aaw a pair of immense tea-urns 
from a railway station (Stafford), sent there to be repaired. 
They were honeycomlied within in all directions, and had been 
supplying the passengers, under the active agency of hot water, 
with decomposed lead, copper, and a few other deadly poisons, 
for heaven knowa how many years ! 

I must leave off in a hurry to catch the post, after a hard 
day's work. 

Ever, my dearest Hacready, 

Your most affectionate and attached. 


Gad's Hill Place, Hioham bv Rocubsthb, Krirr, 
Sunday, October 54, 18611. 

f DBAB Mr. RtisDKN, — This very day a great meeting ia 
need to come off in London, as a demonstration in favour 
I^Fenian "amnesty." No doubt its numbers and impor- 
^are ridiciilonsly over-estimated, but I believe the gathering 
bum out to be big enough to be a very serious obstruction 
) London streets. I have a great doubt whether such 
BBtnitiana ought to be allowed. They are bad aa a prece- 
knnd they unquestionably interfere w\lK tVc ^'Miwcii.\^*.'A"'^ 
_J tnedom of the subject. 
MoTvover, the time must come when tViU VVni. cS. tiKtB*^ »»-^ 
P^pfianfa wiil have to bs forcibly stopped, aoi -wV*^ ** "^^^ 
limmmoBiJib, (oieratjon of it will lead to a aacrvftw <A VA» «oi«« 


ively inDocent looken-on tlimt might 1 
for a false confidence on their p«rt, i 
_^,tt Bystem of laisser oiler. You see how t^it4 
, _, . J and I, ID our last correspondence on this head, atA 
uun desperalely utjaatiefactoiy the condition of Ireland ii^ 
<»neciiLlly when considcreil with a reference to America. Thi 
vemment has, tbroc^h Mr. Gladstone, just now spokeii oot 
uuidly in reference to the desired amnesty. (So much tha 
better for them or they would unquestionably have gone by tbe 
board.) Still there is an uoeaay feeling abroad that Mr. Glad- 
atone binuielf would grant this amnesty if he dared, and that 
there is a great weakneea in the rest of their Irish policy. And 
tbts feeling is very strong amongst the noiaieat Irish bowlere. 
Meanwhile, the newspapera go on arguing Irish matters as if the 
Iriiib wore a reasonable people, in which immense a^umplioa I, 
for one, have not the enmllest faith. 

Again, I have to thank you most heartily for your kindneea 
to my two boys. It ia impossible to predict how Plom will 
aettlc down, or come out of the effort to do so. But he haa 
uiiitieslionuhly an affectionate nature, and a certain romantic 
tmiT.!] in liiiii. Hoth of thi'se qiinlilics are, I hope, more im- 
pressible for good than for evil, and I trust in God for the reab 

The news of Lord Derby's death will reach you, I suppoae, 
at about the aarae time as this letter. A rash, impetuous, pas- 
sionate man ; but a great loss for his party, as a man of mind 
and mark. I was staying last June with Lord Russell — six 
or seven years older, but (except for being rather deaf) in won- 
derful preservation, and brighter and more completely armed at 
all points than I have seen him these twenty years. 

As this need not be posted till Friday, I shall leave it open 
for a final word or two ; and am until then, and then, and 
always afterwards, my dear Mr. Rnsdcn, 

Your faithful and much obliged. 

Tharsdar, SSth. 
We have no news in England except two slight changes in 
the Government consequent on Layard's becoming our Minister 
at Aladrid. He ia not long married to a charming lady, and 
will be far better in Spain than in the House of Commons. 
The Ministry are now holding councils on the Irish Land 
Tenure question, which is the next difficulty they bare to deal 


with, as you know. Laat Sunday's meeting was a prepoBterous 
failure ; still, it brought together in tLe streets of London all 
the ruffian part of the population of London, and that is a 
eerious evil which any one of a thousand sccidente might render 
mischiovoUB. There is no existing law, however, to stop these 
SBsemblagea, bo that they keep moving while in the Btreets. 

The Government was undoubtedly wrong when it considered 
it had the right to close Hyde Park ; that ia now universally 

I write to Alfred and Plom both by this mail. They can 
never aay enough of your kindness when they write to me. 

Gap's HiLi, Place, Monday. Kavemb«r S, ISflE). 
i>EAB Layard, — On Friday or Saturday next I can 
eome to you at any lime after twelve that will suit your con- 
venience. I had no idea of letting you go away without my 
Godspeed ; but I knew how busy you must be ; and kept in the 
background, biding my time. 

I am sure you know that there is no man living more at- 
tached to you than I am. After considering tlie euhject with 
the jealouey of a friend, I have a strong conviction that your 
change ' is a good one ; ill as you can he spared from tlin ranks 
of men who are in earnest here. 

With kindest regards to Mrs. Layard, 
^K Ever faithfully yours. 


6, Htdb PiBH Pi.ACK, tosvnn, W, • 

Frid»y, January U, IB70. 

Mr DEAR FiKLDS, — Wo live here (opposite the Marble 
Arch) in a charming house until the 1st of June, and then 
return to Clft<l's. The conservatory is completed, and is a 
brilliant success ; but an expensive one ! 

I shoulil be quite ashamed of not having vmttwcv \n -jtiM, mA 
my dear Mrs. Fields before now, if I diiti't Vtah"" 'i^\*>^ 1**^ 
wiU both understand how occupied 1 am, ai\4 "Uovi \\*.Vxws^'Si 
mi/nJ put my pupers away tor thei day, 1 ftfct ^V b-»4- ^'S* 
^^^J Mr. UittKl-t ■ppoioCiuciitBa British Miuistet ».\. TAa^l^.J 


have a lai^ room here, with three fine winilowa, ovei 
the Park — unsurpassahle for airinfris anil clicerfnlnoaB. 

Ton nw the announcement of the death of poor dear ] 

The arenmstances are curious. He wrote to his old friend tte j 
Dean of Battle, saying he would come to visit him on that day 
(the day of his death). The Dean wrote back : " Come neit - 
day, instead, as we are obliged te go out to dinner, and you wHl j 
be alone." Hamese told bis sister a little impatiently that ht 
must go on the first-named day ; that be had made up his miikl 
to go, and unsT. He had been getting himself ready for din- 
ner, and came to a part of the steircase whence two doga 
opened — one, upon another level passage ; one, upon a ^ht of 
stone steps. He opened the wrong door, fell down the step*, 
injured himself very severely, and died in a few hours. 

You will know — / don't — what Fechter's success ia in 
America at the time of this preeent writing. In his farewell 
performances at the Princesa's he acted very finely. I thought 
the three first acte of bis Hamlet very much better than I bad 
eret thought them before — and I always thought very h^blj 
of them. We gave bim a foaming stirrup cup at Gad's HilL 

Forster (who has been ill with bia bronchitis again) thinks 
"So. 2 of the new book (" Edwin Drood ") a clincher, — I meaa 
that word (as his own expression) for Clincher. There is a 
curious interest steadily working up te No. 6, which requires 
a great deal of art and Betf-denial. I think also, apart from 
character and picturesquences, that the young people are placed 
in a very novel situation. So I hope — at Nos. 5 and 6, the 
story will turn upon an interest suspended until tlie end. 

I can't believe it, and don't, and won't, but they say Harry'a 
twenty-firat birthday is next Sunday. I have entered him at 
'the Temple just now; and if he don't get s fellowship at Trinity 
Hall when his time comes, I shall be disappointed, if in the 
present disappointed state of existence. 

I hope you may have met with the little touch of Radicalism 
I gave them at Birmingham in the words of Buckle ? With 
pride I observe that it makes the regular political traders, of alt 
sorte, perfectly mad. Such was my intentions, as a grateful 
acknowledgment of having been misrepresented. 

I think Mrs. 's prose very admirable ; but I don't believe 

' t Ko, I do not. My conviction ia that those islanders get 

igbtfully bored by the islands, and wish they had never set 
yes upon them I 


I - 



• r 

* : 


).' I- 


■■» 'i 


■ T 

\ ' • 

W. H. WILLS 401 

Charley Collins has done a charming cover for the monthly 
part of the new hook. At the very earnest representations of 
Millais (and after having seen a great numher of his drawings) 
I am going to engage with a new man; retaining, of course, 
C. C.'s cover aforesaid.^ Katie has made some more capital 
portraits, and is always improving. 

My dear Mrs. Fields, if " He " (made proud by chairs and 
bloated by pictures) does not give you my dear love, let us con- 
spire against him when you find him out, and exclude him from 
all future confidences. Until then, 

Ever affectionately yours and his. 


6, Hyde Park Place, Londox, W., 
Sunday, January 23, 1870. 

My dear Wills, — In the note I had from you about 
Nancy and Sikes, you seem to refer to some other note you 
had written me. Therefore I think it well merely to mention 
that I have received no other note. 

I do not wonder at your not being up to the undertaking 
(even if you had had no cough) under the wearing circum- 
stances. It was a very curious scene. The actors and actresses 
(most of the latter looking very pretty) mustered in extraordi- 
nary force, and were a fine audience. I set myself to carrying 
out of themselves and their observation those who were bent 
on watching how the effects were got; and I believe I suc- 
ceeded. Coming back to it again, however, I feel it was mad- 
ness ever to do it so continuously. My ordinary pulse is 
seventy-two, and it runs up under this effort to one hundred 
and twelve. Besides which, it takes me ten or twelve minutes 
to get my wind back at all ; I being, in the mean time, like the 
man who lost the fight — in fact, his express image. Frank 
Beard was in attendance to make divers experiments to report 
to Watson ; and although, as you know, he stopped it instantly 
when he found me at Preston, he was very much astonished by 
the effects of the reading on the reader. 

So I hope you may be able to come and hear it before it is 
silent for ever. It is done again on the evenings of the 1st 

1 Mr. Charles Collins was obliged to give up the illustrating of Edwin Drood, 
on account of his failing health. 



Febmaijy ISih Febmaiy, and 8th March. I hope, now I hate 
got over the momingSy that I may be able to work on my book. 
But up to this time the great preparation required in getting 
the subjects up again, and the twice a week besides^ have almost 
exclusively occupied me. 

I. have something the matter with my right thumb, and can't 
(as you see) write plainly. I sent a word to poor Bobeit 
Chambers,^ and I send my love to Mrs. Wills. 

Ever, my dear Wills, affectionately youn^ 


6^ Htds Pask Placb, MoiuUj, F«bniai7 1^ 1870L 

Mt dbab Ltttok, — I ought to have mentioned in my 
hurried note to you, that my knowledge of the consultation' 
in question only preceded yours by certain hours ; and that 
Longman asked me if I would make the design known to you, 
as he thought it might be a liberty to address you otherwise. 
This I did therefore. 

The class of writers to whom you refer at the cloae of your 
note have no copyright, and do not come within my case at all. 
I quite agree with you as to their propensities and deserts. 

Indeed, I suppose in the main that there is very little dif- 
ference between our opinions. I do not think the present 
Grovernment worse than another, and I think it better than 
another by the presence of Mr. Gladstone ; but it appears to 
me that our system fails. 

Ever yours. 


6, Hyde Park Plack, W., 
Thursday, February 17, lS7a 

My dear Harry, — I am extremely glad to hear that you 
have made a good start at the Union. Take any amount of 
pains about it ; open your mouth well and roundly, speak to 
the last person visible, and give yourself time. 

Loves from all. 

Ever affectionately. 

1 On the death of his second wife. 

* A meeting of Publiahers and Authors to diacoss the subject of Internationa] 

MB. 403 


Wednesdaj, March 2, 1870. 

My dbasbst Macready, — This is to wish you and yours 
all happiness and prosperity at the well-remembered anniversary 
to-morrow. You may be sure that loves and happy returns 
will not be forgotten dX our table. 

I have been getting on very well with my book, and we are 
having immense audiences at St. James's HalL Mary has been 
celebrating the first glimpses of spring by having the measles. 
She got over the disorder very easily, but a weakness remains 
behind. Katie is blooming. Georgina is in perfect order, and 
all send you their very best loves. It gave me true pleasure to 
have your sympathy with me in the second little speech at Bir- 
mingham. I was determined that my radicalism should not be 
called in question. The electric wires are not very exact in 
their reporting, but at all events the sense was there. Kyland, 
as usual, made all sorts of inquiries about you. 

With love to dear Mrs. Macready and the noble boy, my par- 
ticular friend, and a hearty embrace to you, 

I am ever, my dearest Macready, 

Your most affectionate. 


Office of "All the Tear Round," 
Wednesday, March 9, 1870. 

My dear , — You make me very uneasy on the subject 

of your new long story here, by sowing your name broadcast in 
so many fields at once, and undertaking such an impossible 
amount of fiction at one time. Just as you are coming on with 
us, you have another story in progress in the "Gentleman's 
Magazine," and another announced in " Once a Week." And 
so far as I know the art we both profess, it cannot be reason- 
ably pursued in this way. I think the short story you are now 
finishing in these pages obviously marked by traces of great 
haste and small consideration ; and a long story similarly blem- 
ished would really do the publication irreparable harm. 

These considerations are so much upon my mind that I can- 
not forbear representing them to you, in the hope that they 

^ VSmm W OHASUB biokehb 

«M|y IfeiBMe .^^ ^ ^*^ ^ ^^^ ^^''^ >i^^ Moouni the neeet- 
" dtr trf riSg'^ ywpimtion, and aoine self-denial in the quantity 
S^ ^PiUi^fMi auie that I write fully as mnoh in your inter- 
JS%%iSMl^ "^ AU the Year Bound." 

Belieye me, always futhfolly yaanL 

DCCVni. MB. 

9, Htdb Pamx Plaoi^ W^ 

FridAj, Haitk U, U70. 

Six MAn » T^Of ooune the engagement between na ia 
II^Q^IMKlbluey and I am sure you know me too well to suppoae 
ljl|#ik 1 have eyer had a thought to the contraiy. Your ezplana- 
tjiM i* (m it naturally would be, being yours) manly and hon- 
^ and I am both sf^isfied and hopef uL Ever yours. 


8, Htdb Pass Placs, W^ 
TMiday, Mareh at, 1870. 

Mr DBAB Habbt, — Your next Tuesday's subject ia a verj 
good one. I would not lose the point that narrow-minded 
fanaticSy who decry the theatre and defame its artists, are abso- 
lutely the advocates of depraved and barbarous amusements. 
For wherever a good drama and a well-regulated theatre decline, 
some distorted form of theatrical entertainment will infallibly 
arise in their place. In one of the last chapters of ^'Haid 
Times/' Mr. Sleary says something to the effect, '' People will 
be entertained thomehow, thquire. Make the betht of uth, and 
not the wortht." Ever affectionately. 


S, Htdb Pakk Plack, W, 
Friday, April 1, 1870. 

My deab Shirley Brooks, — I have written to Mr. Low, 
expressing my regret that I cannot comply with his request, 
backcii as it is by my friend S. R But I have told him what 
is perfectly tnie — that I leave town for the peaceful follovring 
of my own pursuits, at the end of next month; that I have 
excused myself from filling all manner of claims, on the ground 


thai the public eDgagementg I could make for the Beason were 
■very few and were &I1 made ; and that I cannot bear hot rooms 
when I am at work. I have smoothed this as you would have 
me smooth it. 

With your longing for fresh air I can thoroughly sympatliise. 
May you get it soon, and may you enjoy it, and profit by it hall 
as much as I wish I Ever faithfully yours. 


^ Office or "All tkw Tear Rootm," 

TliurBduy, April Jl, IBTO. 
r DEAK Mackay, — I have placed "God's Acre." The 
^ paper, "The False Friend," has lingered, because it seems 

to me that the idea is to he found in an introduced story of 
mine called "The Baron of firogzwig" in "Pickwick." 

Be pleaeant with the Scottish people in handling Johnson, 
because I love them. Ever faithfully. 


Uonrlay Moroing, April ib, IgTO. 

My dear Kkst, — I received your hook ^ with the greatest 
pleasure, and heartily thank you for it. It ia a volume of a 
highly prepossessing appearance, and a moat friendly look, I 
felt as if I should have taken to it at sight ; even (a very largo 
even) though I bad known nothing of ita contente, or of its 
■uthoT ! 

For the last week I have been most perseveringlj and ding- 
dong-doggedly at work, making headway but slowly. The 
spring always has a restless influeneo over mo ; and I weary, at 
any season, of this London dining-out beyond expression ; and 
I yearn for the country again. This is my excuse for not hav- 
ing written to you sooner. Besides which, I had a baseless 
conviction that I should see you at the oUice last Thursday. 
Not having done so, I fear you must be worse, or no better 7 
If joa can let me have a report of yomseU, ^t&'j 4o. 

'A DtiWfoIIecIivo ediliOE ol KkdCi PotiM. 

Idt LRiiu et CTASLB 

DiMit -J.K 


6, Htds Pass Plaob, W, Moiidajy Mij % IMl 

Mt ]>BiLB Mb8. P01.LOCK9 — Pray toll the iUfutrious nOip 
i^an Arteyeldo, that I will d^ with the itefBiioiia ease m qiiea- 
tion if I can. I am a little doubtful of the pnetioabifify d 
doing 8O9 and frisking outdde the bounds of the law of UbeL 
I haye that high opinion of the law of England goiendlj, whidi 
one is likely to deriye from the impression that it puts all the 
honest men under tiie diaboliedi hoofs of all the seoundida* It 
makes me cautious of doing tight ; an admirable instance d Us 

I was Texy sony to have gone astray from you fliai Sunday | 
but as the earlier disciples entertained angels unawaiesi so 11m 
later often miss them hap-hasard. 

Your description of La Font's acting is the oomplete tralh 
in one short sentence : Nature's triumph oyer art ; reyeiaiiig the 
copy-book axiom! But the Lord deliver us from PlMj'a 
mechanical ingenuousness I ! 

And your petitioner will oyer pray. 

And eyer be, 

Faithfully yours. 


5, Htdb Park Place, W., Wednesday, Kay 11, 187a 

My deab Mrs. Ward, — I grieve to say that I am literally 
laid by the heels, and incapable of dining with you to-morrow. A 
neuralgic affection of the foot, which usually seizes me about 
twice a year, and which will yield to nothing but days of fomen- 
tation and horizontal rest, set in last night, and has caused me 
very great pain ever since, and will too clearly be no better 
until it has had its usual time in which to wear itself out. I 
send my kindest regard to Ward, and beg to be pitied. 

Believe me, faithfully youn always. 



Snndfty, Ma;' IS, ISTO. 
IEt drab Buckstone, — I send a duplicute of this note to 
R Haymarket, in case it should miss you out of town. For a 
few years I bave been liable, at wholly uoc«rtaia nnd iucalcii- 
UtJe timee, to a severe attack of neuralgia in the foot, about 
once in tlie course of a year. It began in an injury to the finer 
muscles ot nerves, occasioned by over-walking in the deep snow. 
When it comes on I cannot stani), and can bear no covering 
whatever on the sensitive place. (!)nB of these seizures is upon 
me now. Until it leaves me I could no more walk into St. 
James's Hnll than I could fly in the air. I hope you will pre- 
sent my duty to the Prince of Wales, and assure his Koyal 
Highness that nothing Khott of my being (most unfortunately) 
disabled for the moment would have prevented my attending, 
OB trustee of the Fund,^ at the dinner, and warmly expressing 
my poor sense of the great and inestimable serviee his Koyal 
Highness renders to a most deserving institution by so kindly 
commending it to the public. 

Faithfully yours always. 

^6, n»i>ii Paric Place, W., Tmiidiiy. itnj- IT, 1870. 
BEAR Kent, — Mruiy, many thanks I It is only my 
..w^.....gic foot. It has given me such a sharp twist this time 
that I have not been able, in its extreme sensitiveness, to put 
any covering upon it except scalding fomentations. Having 
viciously bubbled and blistered it in all directions, I Lope it 
now begins to see the folly of its ways. 

Affectionately ever. 

the Sun shines. 




Docxm. m. KnsDKv 

Anminv, FkidAj Erviag^ M^ 90^ Unn 

Ht dbab Mr. RusDKf 9 — I leoeiTed your most inteiwtiiig 
and dear-sighted letter about Plom just before the departure of 
the last mail from here to you. I did not answer then because 
another incoming mail was nearly due, and I expected (knowing 
Plom 00 well) that some oommunieation from him such as he 
made to you would come to me. I was not mistaken. The 
same arguing of the squatter questkm — yegetaUes and all — 
appeared. This gave me an opportunity of touching on those 
points by this mail, without in the least compromising you. I 
cannot too completely express my concnnence with your excel- 
lent idea that his correspondence with you should be regarded 
as oonfidentiaL Just as I could not possibly suggest a word 
more neatly to the point, or more thoughtfully addr e ss ed , to 
such a young man than your reply to his letter, I hope you will 
excuse my saying that it is a perfect model of taet, good sense, 
and good feeling. I had been struck by his persistently ignor- 
ing the possibility of his holding any other position in Austra- 
lasia than his present position, and had inferred from it a home- 
ward tendency. What is most curious to me is that he is very 
sensible, and yet does not seetu to understand that he has 
qualified himself for no public examinations in the old countr}% 
and could not possibly hold his own against any competition for 
anything to which I could get him nominated. 

But I must not trouble you about my boys as if they were 
yours. It is enough that I can never thank you for your good- 
ness to them in a generous consideration of me. 

I believe the truth as to France to be that a citizen French- 
man never forgives, and that Napoleon will never live down the 
coup (T^tat. This makes it enormously difficult for any well- 
advised English newspa|)er to support him, and pretend not to 
know on what a volcano his throne is set. Informed as to his 
designs on the one hand, and the perpetual uneasiness of his 
police on the other (to say nothing of a doubtful army), the 
" Times " has a difficult game to play. ^Ij own impression is 
that if it were played too boldly for him, the old deplorable 
national antagonism would revive in his going down. That the 
wind will pass over his Imperiality on the sands of France I 


have not the slightest doubt. In no country on the earth, but 
least of all there, can you seize people in their houses on polit- 
ical warrants, and kill in the streets, on no warrant at all, 
without raising a gigantic Nemesis — not very reasonable in 
detail, perhaps, but none the less terrible for that. 

The commonest dog or man driven mad is a much more 
alarming creature than the same individuality in a sober and 
commonplace condition. 

Your friend is setting the world right generally all 

round (including the flattened ends, the two poles), and, as a 
Minister said to me the other day, " has the one little fault of 

You will probably have read before now that I am going to 
be everything the Queen can make me.^ If my authority be 
worth anything, believe on it that I am going to be nothing but 
what I am, and that that includes my being as long as I live. 

Your faithful and heartily obliged. 


ATHENiEUM Club, Friday Night, May 20, 1870. 

My dear Alfred,^ — I have just time to tell you under 
my own hand that I invited Mr. Bear to a dinner of such guests 
as he would naturally like to see, and that we took to him very 
much, and got on with him capitally. 

I am doubtful whether Plorn is taking to Australia. Can 
you find out his real mind ? I notice that he always writes as 
if his present life were the be-all and the end-all of his emigra- 
tion, and as if I had no idea of you two becoming proprietors, 
and aspiring to the first positions in the colony, without casting 
off the old connection. 

From Mr. Bear I had the best accounts of you. I told him 
that they did not surprise me, for I had unbounded faith in 
you. For which take my love and blessing. 

They will have told you all the news here, and that I am 
hard at work. This is not a letter so much as an assurance 
that I never think of you without hope and comfort. 

Ever, my dear Alfred, 

Your afiectionate Father. 

1 Ad anasion to an unfounded mmour. 

* Charles Dickens^s son, Alfred Tennyson. 

* This letter did not reach Australia until after the telegraph had bronght 
news to the sons of their father's death. 

•4 ■ a W ar^,T« 

410 UBmni OV: OBABUi 

»];»i 4 -t 'S 


OAD't Hill Placid Hiosax st BooRimi^ 

Mt DiiJi Mbs. BaitobofTi^ — I am mott lietttflj diliged 
to you for joar kind notoi whidi I leceiyed here onlj lintni^ii 
h«Ying oome here from town drouitooaly to get a lUtle diMige 
of iir on the road* My eenae of yonr interest eannol be bettor 

r^Yed than by my trying the remedy you reoommend» and that 
will do immediateliy. As I shall be in town on ThnndayY 
my troubling you to order it would be quite uiguetifiabla I 
will use your name in applying for it^ and will report the reeolt 
after a ftdr trial Whether Uiis remedy suooeeds or laila ae to 
the neundgisi I shall always consider myself under an oblige 
tion to it for having indirectly procured me the great pleasors 
of receiving a communication from you \ for I hope I may lay 
di^ to being one of the meet earnest and delighted of your 
many artistic admiiefa. 

BeUeye me, faithfully youra. 


QAD*a Hill Placr, High ax bt Rocrsstkb, Kkxt, 

WedneMlmv, June 8, 1870. 

My DRAR Kkxt, — To-morrow is a very bad day for me to 
make a call, as, in addition to my usual office business, I have 
a mass of accounts to settle with Wills. But I hope I may be 
ready for you at three o'clock. If I can't be — why, then I 
shanH be« 

You must really get rid of those Opal eigoyments. They are 
loo overpowering : — 

^ Th«M riol«Bt delight! liare violent end*.** 

I think it w^is a father of your church who made the wise 
n^mark to a young gentleman who got up early (or stayed out 
late) at Verona ? 

Ever allectkwately, 


t MiM Xnrit Wntoa. 





^^^^^^^^^ JOHN M. MAKEDaM 411 ■ 


Gad's Hili, Place, Hioham bt KociTEaTER, Krst, 1 
Wfdnesdsy, JiioeS, 1870. J 

Dear Sir, — It would be quite inconceivable to me — but 
for your letter' — tbat any reasonable reader could possibly 
altacb a ecriptiiral reference to a passage in a book of mine, re- 
producing a much-abused social figure of speech, impresBcd into 
all sorts of service, on all sorts of inappropriate occasions, with- 
ont the faintest connection of it with its origijial source. I am 
truly shocked to find that any reader can make the mistake. 

for the life and lessons of our Saviour, because I feel it, and 
because I rewrote that history for my children, every one of 
whom knew it from having it repeated to them, long before 
they could read, and almost as soon as they could speak. 

But I have never made proclamation of this from the house- 

Faithfully yours, 

Charles Dickens. 

1 Mr. MaVehsm h»d written Diclienii in reference fo a puuee in Ihs tenth 
<h*pt«r of Edwin Drood. rCKprctinf,' vhicli he had iiigK«ited that DIckena might 
hare fo^otlen (hil a cei^ain fipure of speech dlliided to by him wns drawn from 
Scripture, lud «u ■ prophetic description of the «ufi«ring» ef the Saviour. 


Edinburgh, June 25, 1841 

[At a public dinner, given in honour of Mr. Dickens, and presided over by 
the late Professor Wilson.] 

If I felt your warm and generous welcome less, I should be 
better able to thank you. If I could have listened as you have 
listened to the glowing language of your distinguished chairman, 
and if I could have heard as you heard the " thoughts that 
breathe and words that bum," which he has uttered, it would 
have gone hard but I should have caught some portion of his 
enthusiasm, and kindled at his example. But every word 
which fell from his lips, and every demonstration of sympathy 
and approbation with which you received his eloquent expres- 
sions, renders me unable to respond to his kindness, and leaves 
me at last all heart and no lips, yearning to respond as I would 
do to your cordial greeting — possessing, heaven knows, the 
will, and desiring only to find the way. 

The way to your good opinion, favour, and support has been 
to me very pleasing — a path strewn with flowers and cheered 
with sunshine. I feel as if I stood amongst old friends, whom 
I had intimately known and highly valued. I feel as if the 
deaths of the fictitious creatures, in which you have been kind 
enough to express an interest, had endeared us to each other as 
real afflictions deepen friendships in actual life ; I feel as if 
they had been real persons, whose fortunes we had pursued 
together in inseparable connection, and that I had never known 
them apart from you. 

It is a difficult thing for a man to speak of himself or of his 
works. But perhaps on this occasion I may, without impro- 
priety, venture to say a word on the spirit in which mine were 
conceived. I felt an earnest and humble desire, and shall do 
till I die, to increase the stock of harmless cheerfulness. I felt 

t •in ' A- 

414 snoKmn w csauw sioaDni 

fhal tlie world was noi n^fterlj to lio dented; liiit ft wm 
worthy of liYiDg in for many leaaona. I was anxkmsio §aai, 
as the Professor has said, if I oonldy in evil things fhtft mini cl 
goodness which the Creator has pat in them. I was Mudbns to 
diow that Yirtne may he found in the hy-ways of the woild; 
that it is not incompatible with poyerty and eyen wifli lagi^ 
and to keep steadily through Uf e the motto, exprusssd in tibe 
haming words of your Northern poet : — 

**T1i6 nak is bat the goiiiaa't •tam|^ 
The BAB '• the sowd for a' tiMt." 

And in following tins tmeky wfaerecoold I haye better 

that I was right, or where could I haye strongs assoimee to 

cheer me on, than in your kindness on this to me m e moimH e 


I am anxious and glad to haye an opportunity of saying a 
word in reference to one incident in which I am hi^py to know 
you were interested, and still more happy to know, tiion^ It 
may sound paradoxical, that you were diutppointed — I mean 
the death of the little heroine. When I first coneeived the 
idea of conducting that simple story to its termination, I deto^ 
mined rigidly to adhere to it, and never to forsake the end I 
had in view. Not untried in the school of affliction, in the 
death of those we love, I thought what a good thing it would 
be if in my little work of pleasant amusement I could substitute 
a garland of fresh flowers for the sculptured horrors which dis- 
grace the tomb. If I have put into my book anything which 
can fill the young mind with better thoughts of death, or soften 
the grief of older hearts ; if I have written one word which can 
afford pleasure or consolation to old or young in time of trial, I 
shall consider it as something achieved — something which I 
shall be glad to look back upon in after life. Therefore I kept 
to my purpose, notwithstanding that towards the conclusion of 
the story, I daily received letters of remonstrance, especially 
from the ladies. God bless them for their tender mercies! 
The Professor was quite right when he said that I had not 
reached to an adequate delineation of their virtues ; and I fear 
that I must go on blotting their characters in endeavouring to 
reach the ideal in my mind. These letters were, however, com- 
bined with others from the sterner sex, and some of them were 
not altogether free from personal invective. But, not with- 

BOSTON, FEBBUABY 1, 1842 415 

standing, I kept to my purpose, and I am happy to know that 
many of those who at first condemned me are now foremost in 
their approbation. 

If I have made a mistake in detaining you with this little 
incident, I do not regret having done so; for your kindness 
has given me such a confidence in you, that the fault is yours 
and not mine. I come once more to thank you, and here I am 
in a difficulty again. The distinction you have conferred upon 
me is one which I never hoped for, and of which I never dared 
to dream. That it is one which I shall never forget, and that 
while I live I shall be proud of its remembrance, you must well 
know. I believe I shall never hear the name of this capital of 
Scotland without a thrill of gratitude and pleasure. I shall 
love while I have life her people, her hills, and her houses, and 
even the very stones of her streets. And if in the future works 
which may lie before me you should discern — God grant you 
may ! — a brighter spirit and a clearer wit, I pray you to refer 
it back to this night, and point to that as a Scottish passage for 
evermore. I thank you again and again, with the energy of a 
thousand thanks in each one, and I drink to you with a heart 
as full as my glass, and far easier emptied, I do assure you. 


Boston, February 1, 1842 

[At a dinner given to Mr. Dickens by the yoang men of Boston. The chair- 
man was Mr. Josiah Quincv, then President of Harvard College. The toast of 
"Health, happiness, and a hearty welcome to Charles Dickens/' was proposed 
by the chairman.] 

Gentlemen, — If you had given this splendid entertain- 
ment to any one else in the whole wide world — if I were 
to-night to exult in the triumph of ray dearest friend — if I 
stood here upon my defence, to repel any unjust attack — to 
appeal as a stranger to your generosity and kindness as the 
freest people on the earth — I could, putting some restraint 
upon myself, stand among you as self-possessed and unmoved 
as I should he alone in my own room in England. But when 
I have the echoes of your cordial greeting ringing in my ears; 
when I see your kind faces heaming a welcome so warm and 
earnest as never man had — I feel, it is my nature, so van- 


quished and subdued, that I have hardly fortitude enou^ to 
thank you. If your P^resident, instead of pouring forth that 
delightful mixture of humour and pathos which you have just 
heard with so much delight, had been but a caustic, ill-^iatured 
man — if he had only been a dull one — if I could only 
have doubted or distrusted him or you, I should have bad my 
wits at my fingers' ends, and, using them, could have held you 
at arm's length. But you have given me no such opportunity ; 
you take advantage of me in the tenderest point ; you give me 
no chance of playing at company, or holding you at a distance, 
but flock about me like a host of brothers, and make this place 
like home. Indeed, gentlemen, indeed, if it be natural and 
allowable for each of us, on his own hearth, to express his 
thoughts in the most homely fashion, and to appear in his 
plainest garb, I have a fair claim upon you to let me do so 
to-night, for you have made my house an Aladdin's Palace. 
You fold so tenderly within your breasts that common house- 
hold lamp in which my feeble fire is all enshrined, and at 
which my flickering torch is lighted up, that straight my house- 
hold gods take wing, and are transported there. And whereas 
it is written of that fairy structure that it never moved without 
two shocks — one when it rose, and one when it settled down 
— I can say of mine that, however sharp a tug it took to pluck 
it from its native ground, it struck at once an easy, and a deep 
and lasting root into this soil, and loved it as its own. I can 
say more of it, and say with truth, that long before it moved, 
or had a chance of moving, its master — perhaps from some 
secret sympathy between its timbers and a certain stately tree 
that has its being herealx)ut, and spreads its broad branches far 
and wide — dreamed by day and night, for years, of setting 
foot upon this shore, and breathing this pure air. And, trust 
me, gentlemen, that, if I had wandered here, unknowing and 
unknown, I would — if I know my own heart — have come 
with all my sympathies clustering as richly al)Out this land 
and people — with all my sense of justice as keenly alive to 
their high claims on every man who loves God's image — with 
all my energies as fully bent on judging for myself, and speak- 
ing out, and telling in my sphere the truth, as I do now, when 
you rain down your welcomes on my head. 

Your l*resideut has alluded to those writings which have 

BOSTON, FEBRUARY 1, 1842 417 

been my occupation for some years past ; and you have received 
his allusions in a manner which assures me — if I needed any 
such assurance — that we are old friends in the spirit, and have 
been in dose communion for a long time. 

It is not easy for a man to speak of his own books. I dare 
say that few persons have been more interested in mine than I, 
and if it be a general principle in nature that a lover's love is 
blind, and that a mother's love is blind, I believe it may be 
said of an author's attachment to the creatures of his own im- 
agination, that it is a perfect model of constancy and devotion, 
and is the blindest of all. But the objects and purposes I 
have had in view are very plain and simple, and may be easily 
told. I have always had, and always shall have, an earnest and 
true desire to contribute, as far as in me lies, to the common 
stock of healthful cheerfulness and enjoyment. I have always 
had, and always shall have, an invincible repugnance to that 
mole-eyed philosophy which loves the darkness, and winks and 
scowls in the light. I believe that Virtue shows quite as well 
in rags and patches as she does in purple and fine linen. I 
believe that she and every beautiful object in external nature 
claim some sympathy in the breast of the poorest man who 
breaks his scanty loaf of daily bread. I believe that she goes 
barefoot as well as shod. I believe that she dwells rather 
oftener in alleys and by-ways than she does in courts and pal- 
aces, and that it is good, and pleasant, and profitable to track 
her out, and follow her. I believe that to lay one's hand upon 
some of those rejected ones whom the world has too long for- 
gotten, and too often misused, and to say to the proudest and 
most thoughtless — "These creatures have the same elements 
and capacities of goodness as yourselves; they are moulded 
in the same form, and made of the same clay ; and though ten 
times worse than you, may, in having retained anything of 
their original nature amidst the trials and distresses of their 
condition, be really ten times better ; " I believe that to do 
this is to pursue a worthy and not useless vocation. Gentle- 
men, that you think so too, your fervent greeting sufficiently 
assures me. That this feeling is alive in the Old World as 
well as in the New, no man should know better than I — I, 
who have found such wide and ready sympathy in my own 
dear land. That in expressing it, we are but treading in the 


418 masoBMB m mhMuss 

rnn * -f-t; 

steps of those great mssteaM^Hiili "Wfho bTe gone ImCdvi^ wi 
Icnow by lef eienoe to all 1^ bii|^t examples In omr WMiaam, 
item S^espeaie downwaid. 

There is one other point oonneeted with the Mxniib 0i I 
may call them so) that yon bold in sodi generous esteem^ to 
whieh I oannot help adTeiting. I cannot help erpwissing Ihe 
deli^t^ the more than happness it was to me to find so steong 
an interest awakened on this side of the water in CaYOor of 
that little heroine of mine, to whom your President has made 
allnsiim, who died in her youth. I had letters about that 
child, in England, from the dwellexs in Icg-bonsss among the 
morasses, and swamps, and densest fbtests , and deepest soli* 
todes of the Far West Many a sturdy hsnd, hard wifli Ami 
axe and spade, and browned by the sommer's son, baa talcMi 
np the pen, and written to me a little hutory of domestie joy 
<nr sorrow, always ooapled, I am prond to say, with somettiiiig 
of interest in that little tale, or some eoinfort or happineMi 
derired from it, and my correspondent has always addressBd 
me, not as a writer of books for sale, resident some four otfn 
thousand miles away, but as a friend to whom be m^t freely 
impart the joys and sorrows of bis own fireside. Many a 
mother — I could reckon them now by dozens, not by units — 
has done the like, and has told me how she lost such a child at 
8uch a time, and where she lay buried, and how good she was, 
and how, in this or that respect, she resembled Nell. I do 
assure you that no circumstance of my life has given me one 
hundredth part of the gratification I have derived from this 
source. I was wavering at the time whether or not to wind np 
my Clock, ^ and come and see this country, and this decided 
me. I felt as if it were a positive duty, as if I were bound to 
pack up my clothes, and come and see my friends ; and even 
now I have such an odd sensation in connection with these 
things, that you have no chance of spoiling me. I feel as 
though we were agreeing — as indeed we are, if we substitute 
for fictitious characters the classes from which they are drawn 
— about third parties, in whom we had a common interest. 
At every new act of kindness on your part, I say to myself, 
" That 's for Oliver ; I should not wonder if that were meant 
for Smike ; I have no doubt that is intended for Nell ; " and 

1 Master Humphrey's Clock^ under which title the two novels of Barmabfi 
Rudge and The Old Curiotittf Shop originally appeared. — En. 

BOSTON, FEBRUARY 1, 1842 419 

80 I become a much happier, certainly, but a more sober and 
retiring man than ever I was before. 

Grentlemen, talking of my friends in America brings me back, 
naturally and of course, to you. Coming back to you, and being 
thereby reminded of the pleasure we have in store in hearing 
the gentlemen who sit about me, I arrive by the easiest though 
not by the shortest course in the world, at the end of what I 
have to say. But before I sit down, there is one topic on which 
I am desirous to lay particular stress. It has, or should have, 
a strong interest for us all, since to its literature every country 
must look for one great means of refining and improving its 
people, and one great source of national pride and honour. You 
have in America great writers — great writers — who will live 
in all time, and are as familiar to our lips as household words. 
Deriving (as they all do in a greater or less degree, in their 
several walks) their inspiration from the stupendous country 
that gave them birth, they diffuse a better knowledge of it, and 
a higher love for it, all over the civilised world. I take leave 
to say, in the presence of some of those gentlemen, that I hope 
the time is not far distant when they, in America, will receive 
of right some substantial profit and return in England from 
their labours; and when we, in England, shall receive some 
substantial profit and return in America for ours. Pray do not 
misunderstand me. Securing to myself from day to day the 
means of an honourable subsistence, I would rather have the 
affectionate regard of my fellow-men than I would have heaps 
and mines of gold. But the two things do not seem to me 
incompatible. They cannot be, for nothing good is incompati- 
ble with justice. There must be an international arrangement 
in this respect : England has done her part, and I am confident 
that the time is not far distant when America will do hers. It 
becomes the character of a great country ; firstly, because it is 
justice ; secondly , because without it you never can have, and 
keep, a literature of your own. 

Gentlemen, I thank you with feelings of gratitude, such as 
are not often awakened, and can never be expressed. As I 
understand it to be the pleasant custom here to finish with a 
toast, I would beg to give you: America and England, 
and may they never have any division but the Atlantic between 


Hartford, Coskecticut, Febrvauy 7, 1S19 
Gentlemen, ■ — ■ To say that I thank you for the eanteat 
manner in which you have drunk the toast just now so eloquenllf 
proposed to you ; to eay that I give you back your kind wisbtt 
and good feelings with more than compound interest, and thai I 
feel how dumb and powerless the beat acknowledgments woold 
be beside such genial hospitality as yours, is nothing. To i 
that in this winter season flowers have spning up in evi 
footstep's length of the path which has brought me here, that 
no country ever smiled more pleasantly than yours has smiled . 
on me, and that I have rarely looked upon a brighter eummir j 
prospect than that which lies before me now, is nothing. I 

Dut it is something to be do stranger iu a strange place — ] 
to feel, sitting at a hoard for the first time, the ease and affe6- 
tion of an old guest, and to be at once on such intimate temia 
with the family as to have a homely, genuine interest in its 
every member — it is, I Bay, something to be in this novel and 
happy frame of mind. And as it is of your creation, and owes 
its being to you, I have no reluctance in urging it an a reascm 
why, in addressing you, I should not so much consult the form 
and fashion of my apeoch, as I should employ that universal 
language of the heart, which you, and such Be you, best teach, 
and best can understand. Gentlemen, in that universal language 

— common to you in America, and to us in England, as that 
younger mother-tongue, which, by the means of and throt^ 
the happy union of our two great countries, ahall be spoken 
ages hence, by land and sea, over the wide surface of the globe 

— I thank you. 

I had occasion to say the other night in Boston, as I have 
more than once had occasion to remark before, that it ia not 
easy for an author to speak of his own hooka. If the task he 
a difficult one at any time, its difficulty, certainly, is not dimin- 
ished when a frequent recurrence to the same theme has left 
one nothing new to say. Still, I feel that, in a company like 
this, and especially after what has been said by the Prwident, 
I ought not to pass lightly over those labours of love, which, 
if they had no other merit, hare been the happy meana of 
bringing us together. 


It has been often observed, that you cannot judge of an 
author's personal character from his writings. It may be that 
you cannot. I think it very likely, for many reasons, that you 
cannot. But, at least, a reader will rise from the perusal of a 
book with some defined and tangible idea of the writer's moral 
creed and broad purposes, if he has any at all ; and it is proba- 
ble enough that he may like to have this idea confirmed from 
the author's lips, or dissipated by his explanation. Gentlemen, 
my moral creed — which is a very wide and comprehensive one, 
and includes all sects and parties — is very easily summed up. 
I have faith, and I wish to dififuse faith in the existence — yes, 
of beautiful things, even in those conditions of society which 
are so degenerate, degraded, and forlorn, that, at first sight, it 
would seem as though they could not be described but by a 
strange and terrible reversal of the words of Scripture, " God 
said. Let there be light, and there was none." I take it that 
we are bom, and that we hold our sympathies, hopes, and 
energies, in trust for the many, and not for the few. That we 
cannot hold in too strong a light of disgust and contempt, 
before the view of others, all meanness, falsehood, cruelty, and 
oppression, of every grade and kind. Above all, that nothing 
is high, because it is in a high place ; and that nothing is low, 
because it is in a low one. This is the lesson taught us in the 
great book of nature. This is the lesson which may be read, 
alike in the bright track of the stars, and in the dusty course of 
the poorest thing that drags its tiny length upon the ground. 
This is the lesson ever uppermost in the thoughts of that 
inspired man, who tells us that there are 

'* Tongaes in the trees, books in the ninning brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 

Gentlemen, keeping these objects steadily before me, I am at 
no loss to refer your favour and your generous hospitality back 
to the right source. While I know, on the one hand, that if, 
instead of being what it is, this were a land of tyranny and 
wrong, I should care very little for your smiles or frowns, so I 
am sure upon the other, that if, instead of being what I am, 
I were the greatest genius that ever trod the earth, and had 
diverted myself for the oppression and degradation of mankind, 
yon would despise and reject me. I hope you will, whenever, 
through such means, I give you the opportunity. Trust me, 

422 8>110HK8 or CnABUBS DIOKBirS 

that^ whenever yoa give me the like oocadon, I will return the 
oompliment with interest. 

Gentlemen, as I have no seerets from yon, in the qiiiit of 
confidence you have engendered between ns, and as I have 
made a kind of eompact with myself that I never will, whfle I 
remain in America, omit an opportanity of referring to a topie 
in which I and all others of my dass on both aides of the water 
are equally interested — equally interested, there is no diffnenoe 
between us, I would beg leave to whisper in your ear two W(nds: 
** International Gopyrightw" I use them in no sordid sense, 
beliiBve me, and those who know me best, best knowthat. Vor 
myself, I would rather that my children, coming after me, 
trudged in the mud, and knew by the general feeling of sodefy 
that their father was beloved, and had been of some use, than I 
would have them ride in ^dr carriages, and know by their 
banker's books that he was ridu But I do not see, I confees, 
why <me should be obliged to make the choice, or why Fame, 
besides playing that delightful rfvml ton which she is ao josfly 
celebrated, should not blow out of her trumpet a few notes of a 
difierent kind from those with which she has hitherto contented 

It was well observed the other night by a beautiful speaker, 
whose words went to the heart of every man who heard him, 
that, if there had existed any law in this respect, Scott might 
not have sunk beneath the mighty pressure on his brain, but 
might have lived to add new creatures of his fancy to the 
crowd which swarm about you in your summer walks, and 
gather round your winter evening hearths. 

As I listened to his words, there came back, fresh upon me, 
that touching scene in the great man's life, when he lay upon 
his couch, surrounded by his family, and listened, for the last 
time, to the rippling of the river he had so well loved, over 
its stony bed. I pictured him to myself, faint, wan, dying, 
crushed both in mind and body by his honourable struggle, 
and hovering round him the phantoms of his own imagina- 
tion — Waverley, Ravens wood, Jeanie Deans, Rob Roy, Caleb 
Balderstone, Dominie Sampson — all the familiar throng — 
with Cavaliers, and Puritans, and Highland chiefs innumerable 
overflowing the chamber, and fading away in the dim distance 
beyond. I pictured them, fresh from traversing the world, and 
hanging down their heads in shame and sorrow, that, from all 

NEW TOBK, FEBBUABY 18, 1842 423 

those lands into which they had carried gladness, instruction, 
and delight for millions, they hrought him not one friendly 
hand to help to raise him from that sad, sad hed. Ko, nor 
brought him from that land in which his own language was 
spoken, and in every house and hut of which his own books 
were read in his own tongue, one grateful dollar-piece to buy 
a garland for his grave. Oh, if every man who goes from here 
as many do, to look upon that tomb in Dry burgh Abbey, would 
but remember this, and bring the recollection home ! 

Grentlemen, I thank you again, and once again, and many 
times to that. You have given me a new reason for remember- 
ing this day, which is already one of mark in my calendar, it 
being my birthday ; and you have given those who are nearest 
and dearest to me a new reason for recollecting it with pride 
and interest. Heaven knows that, although I should grow ever 
ao grey, I shall need nothing to remind me of this epoch in my 
life. But I am glad to think that from this time you are 
inseparably connected with every recurrence of this day ; and 
that on its periodical return, I shall always, in imagination, 
have the unfading pleasure of entertaining you as my guests, in 
return for the gratification you have afforded me to-night. 


New York, February 18, 1842 

[At a dinner presided over by Washington Irving, when nearly eight hun- 
dred of the most distinguished citizens of New York were present. " Charles 
Dickens, the Literary Guest of the Nation," was proffered as a sentiment 
by the chairman.] 

Gentlemen, — I don't know how to thank you — I really 
don't know how. You would naturally suppose that my former 
experience would have given me this power, and that the diffi- 
culties in my way would have been diminished ; but I assure 
you the fact is exactly the reverse, and I have completely 
baulked the ancient proverb that " a rolling stone gathers no 
moss ; " and in my progress to this city I have collected such a 
weight of obligations and acknowledgment — I have picked up 
such an enormous mass of fresh moss at every point, and was 
80 struck by the brilliant scenes of Monday night, that I 
thought I could never by any possibility grow any bigger. I 


bare made, continimllyy new aocomulaiionB to such an extent 
that I am compelled to stand still, and can roll no more I 

Gentlemen, we learn from the authorities, that^ when barj 
stones, or balls, or rolls of thread, stopped of their own aoooid 
— as I do not — it presaged some great catastrophe near at 
hand. The precedent holds good in this case. When I hare 
remembered the short time I hare before me to spend in this 
land of mighty interests, and the poor opportunity I can at best 
have of acquiring a knowledge of and forming an acquaintance 
with it^ I have felt it almost a duty to decline the honoure you 
so generously heap upon me, and pass more quietly among yon. 
For Argus himself, though he had but one mouth for his 
hundred eyes, .would have found the reception of a pnUie 
entertainment <mce a week too much for his greatest activity ; 
and as I would lose no scrap of the rich instruction and the 
delightful knowledge which meet me on every hand (and 
already I have gleaned a great deal from your hospitals and 
common jails), I have resolved to take up my staff, and go 
my way rejoicing, and for the future to shake hands with 
America, not at parties but at home ; and, therefore, gentlemen, 
I say to-night, with a full heart, and an honest purpose, and 
grateful feelings, that I bear, and shall ever bear, a deep sense 
of your kind, your affectionate, and your noble greeting, which 
it is utterly impossible to convey in words. No European sky 
without, and no cheerful home or well-wanned room within, 
shall ever shut out this land from my vision. I shall often 
hear your words of welcome in my quiet room, and oftenest 
when most quiet ; and shall see your faces in the blazing fire. 
If I should live to grow old, the scenes of this and other 
evenings will shine as brightly to my dull eyes fifty years hence 
as now ; and the honours you bestow upon me shall be well 
remembered and paid back in my undying love, and honest 
endeavours for the good of my race. 

Grcntlemeii, one other word with reference to this first person 
singular, and then I shall close. I came here in an open, 
honest, and confiding spirit, if ever man did, and because I felt 
a deep sympathy in your land ; had I felt otherwise, I should 
have kept away. As I came here, and am here, without the 
least admixture of one hundredth part of one grain of base 
alloy, without one feeling of unworthy reference to self in any 
respect, I claim, in regard to the past, for the last time, my 

NEW YORK, FEBRUABT 18, 1S42 425 

right in reason, in truth, and in justice, to approach, as I have 
done on two former occasions, a question of literary interest. 
I claim that justice he done ; and I prefer this claim as one 
who has a right to speak and he heard. I have only to add 
that I shall he as true to you as you have heen to me. I 
recognise in your enthusiastic approval of the creatures of my 
fancy, your enlightened care for the happiness of the many, 
your tender regard for the afflicted, your sympathy for the 
do¥mcast, your plans for correcting and improving the had, and 
for encouraging the good ; and to advance these great ohjects 
shall he, to the end of my life, my earnest endeavour, to the 
extent of my humble ability. Having said thus much with 
reference to myself, I shall have the pleasure of saying a few 
words with reference to somebody else. 

There is in this city a gentleman who, at the reception of 
one of my books, — I well remember it was the " Old Curiosity 
Shop," — wrote to me in England a letter so generous, so affec- 
tionate, and so manly, that if I had written the book under 
every circumstance of disappointment, of discouragement, and 
difficulty, instead of the reverse, I should have found in the 
receipt of that letter my best and most happy reward. I an- 
swered him, and he answered me, and so we kept shaking hands 
autographically, as if no ocean rolled between us. I came here 
to this city eager to see him, and [laying his hand upon 
Irvinffs shoulder'] here he sits ! I need not tell you how 
happy and delighted I am to see him here to-night in this 

Washington Irving ! Why, gentlemen, I don't go up stairs 
to bed two nights out of the seven — as a very creditable 
witness near at hand can testify — I say I do not go to bed 
two nights out of the seven without taking Washington Irving 
under my arm ; and when I don't take him, I take his own 
brother, Oliver Goldsmith. Washington Irving! Why, of 
whom but him was I thinking the other day when I came up 
by the Hog's Back, the Frying Pan, Hell Gate, and all these 
places ? Why, when, not long ago, I visited Shakespeare's 
birthplace, and went beneath the roof where he first saw light, 
whose name but his was pointed out to me upon the wall ? 
Washington Irving — Diedrich Knickerbocker — Geoffrey Crayon 
— why, where can you go that they have not been there before ? 
Is there an English farm — is there an English stream, an Eng- 


lish dtjf or an English coantry-eeat^ where they have not been? 
Jb there no Baoebridge Hall in exiatence ? Haa it no ancient 
shades or quiet streets ? 

In bygone times, when Irving left that Hall, he left sitting 
in an old oak chaur, in a small parlour of the Boar's Heaid, a 
little man with a red nose, and an oilskin hat When I came 
away he was sitting there still ! — not a man like him, but the 
same man — with the nose of immortal redness and the hat of 
an undying glaze ! Crayon, while there, was cm terms of inti- 
macy with a certain radical fellow, who used to go about, with 
a hatful of newspapers, woefully out at elbows, and with a 
coat of great antiquity. Why, gentlemen, I know that man — 
Tibbies the elder, and he has not changed a hair ; and when I 
came away, he charged me to give his best respects to Washing- 
ton Irving! 

Leaving the town and the rustic life of England — forget- 
ting this man, if we can — putting out of mind the country 
churchyard and the broken heart — let us cross the water 
again, and ask who has associated himaelf most closely with the 
Italian peasantry and the bandits of the Pyrenees ? When the 
traveller enters his little chamber beyond the Alps — listening 
to the dim echoes of the long passages and spacious corridors — 
damp) and gloomy , and cold — as he hears the tempest beating 
with fury against his window, and gazes at the curtains, dark, 
and heavy, and covered with mould — and when all the ghost- 
stories that ever were told come up before him — amid all his 
thick-coming fancies, whom does he think of ? Washington 

Go farther still : go to the Moorish fountains, sparkling full 
in the moonlight — go among the water-carriers and the village 
gossij>s, living still as in diiys of old — and who has travelled 
among them before you, and peopled the Alliambra and made 
eloquent its shadows ? AMio awakes there a voice from every 
hill and in every cavern, and bids legends, which for centuries 
have slept a dreamless sleep, or watched unwinkiugly, start up 
and j>ass before you in all their life and glor}* ? 

But leaving this again, who embarkeil with Columbus upon 
his gallant ship, traversed with him the dark and mighty ocean, 
leaped upon the land, and planted there the flag of Spain, but 
this same man, now sitting by my side ? And being here at 
home again, who is a more fit companion for money-diggers ? 


and what pen but bis bas made Rip Van Winkle, playing at 
nine-pins on tbat tbundering afternoon, as mucb part and parcel 
of tbe Catskill Mountains as any tree or crag that they can 

But tbese are topics familiar from my boybood, and wbicb I 
am apt to pursue ; and lest I should be tempted now to talk 
too long about them, I will, in conclusion, give you a sentiment, 
most appropriate, I am sure, in the presence of such writers as 
Bryant, Halleck, and — but I suppose I must not mention the 
ladies here — 

The Literature of America. 

She well knows bow to do honour to her own literature and to 
tbat of other lands, when she chooses Washington Irving for 
ber representative in the country of Cervantes. 

Birmingham, February 28, 1844 

[The following speech was delivered at a Conversazione, in aid of the funds 
of the Birmingham Polytechnic Institution, at which Mr. Dickens presided.] 

You will think it very unwise, or very self-denying in me, 
in such an assembly, in such a splendid scene, and after such 
a welcome, to congratulate myself on having nothing new to 
say to you ; but I do so, notwithstanding. To say nothing of 
places nearer home, I had the honour of attending at Manches- 
ter, shortly before Christmas, and at Liverpool, only the night 
before last, for a purpose similar to that which brings you 
together this evening; and looking down a short perspective 
of similar engagements, I feel gratification at the thought that 
I shall very soon have nothing at all to say ; in which case, I 
shall be content to stake my reputation, like the Spectator of 
Addison, and that other great ])eriodical speaker, the Speaker 
of tbe House of Commons, on my powers of listening. 

This feeling and the earnest reception I have met with are 
not the only reasons why I feel a genuine, cordial, and peculiar 
interest in this night's proceedings. The Polytechnic Institu- 
tion of Birmingham is in its infancy — struggling into life under 
all those adverse and disadvantageous circumstances which, to a 


i)f»t « H,f; 

greater or lees extent^ ntttmaUy beset all inf an^ | heA I ivumII 
miich taHbist oonneet myself with it now, hoveter InalAl^ 
ia its days of difficulty and of danger, tban lool: htA en ili 
origin when it may have become strongs and rich, and pem* 
foL I should piefer an io^mate association with it now, in ifs 
eaiiy days and apparent struggles, to becoming its adTOOsIs 
and acquaintanGe, its fair-weatiier friend, in its h%h and pafaqr 
days. I would rather be able to say I knew it in its awiddfil^ 
clothes than in maturer age. Its two elder bioihe» hate 
grown old and died: their chests were weak — about tibeir 
cradles nurses shook their heads, and gossips groaned ; but As 
present institution shot up, amidst the ruin of ^ose wfaldi haife 
&llen, with an indomitable constitution, with vigonma and wtt 
steady pulse; temperate, wise, and of good repute; and hf 
perseverance it has become a very giant. Kmui^uaii is, in »y 
mind and in the minds of most men, associated with nai^ 
giants ; and I no more believe that this young institutimi wIE 
turn out sickly, dwarfish, or of stunted growth, than I do liiat 
when the glass slipper of my chairmanship shall ftU oi^ and 
the dock strike twelve to-night^ this hall will be turned into a 
pumpkin. I found that strong belief upon ^e splendid array 
of grace and beauty by which I am surrounded, and which, tf 
it only had one hundredth part of the effect upon others it has 
upon me, could do anything it pleased with anything and any- 
body. I found my strong conviction, in the second place, up<m 
the public spirit of the town of Birmingham — upon the name 
and fame of its capitalists and working-men ; upon the greatness 
and importance of its merchants and manufacturers; upon its 
inventions, which are constantly in progress; upon the skill 
and intelligence of its artisans, which are daily developed ; and 
the increasing knowledge of all portions of the community. 
All these reasons lead me to the conclusion that your institution 
will advance — that it will and must progress, and you will not 
be content with lingering leagues behind. 

I have another peculiar ground of satisfaction in connection 
with the object of this assembly ; and it is, that the resolutions 
about to be proposed do not contain in themselves anything of 
a sectarian or class nature ; that they do not confine themselves 
to any one single institution, but assert the great and omnip- 
otent principles of comprehensive education everywhere and 
under every circumstance. I beg leave to say that I concur, 


heart and hand, in those principles, and will do all in my 
power for their advancement ; for I hold, in accordance with 
the imperfect knowledge which I possess, that it is impossihle 
for any fahric of society to go on day after day, and year after 
year, from father to son, and from grandfather to grandson, 
punishing men for not engaging in the pursuit of virtue and for 
the practice of crime, without showing them what virtue is, 
and where it hest can he found — in justice, religion, and truth. 
The only reason that can possihly he adduced against it is one 
founded on fiction — namely, the case where an ohdurate old 
genie, in the " Arabian Nights,'^ was bound upon taking the 
life of a merchant, because he had struck out the eye of his 
invisible aon. I recollect, likewise, a tale in the same book of 
charming fancies, which I consider not inappropriate : it is a 
case where a powerful spirit has been imprisoned at the bottom 
of the sea, in a casket with a leaden cover, and the seal of Solo- 
mon upon it ; there he had lain neglected for many centuries, 
and during that period had made many different vows : at first, 
that he would reward magnificently those who should release 
him ; and at last, that he would destroy them. Kow, there is 
a spirit of great power — the Spirit of Ignorance — which is 
shut up in a vessel of leaden composition, and sealed with the 
seal of many, many Solomons, and which is effectually in the 
same position : release it in time, and it will bless, restore, and 
reanimate society ; but let it lie under the rolling waves of 
years, and its blind revenge is sure to lead to certain destruc- 
tion. That there are classes which, if rightly treated, constitute 
strength, and if wrongly, weakness, I hold it impossible to deny 
— by these classes I mean industrious, intelligent, and honour- 
ably independent men, in whom the higher classes of Birming- 
ham are especially interested, and bound to afford them the 
means of instruction and improvement, and to ameliorate their 
mental and moral condition. Far be it from me (and I wish to 
be most particularly understood) to attempt to depreciate the ex- 
cellent Church Instruction Societies, or the worthy, sincere, and 
temperate zeal of those reverend gentlemen by whom they are 
usually conducted; on the contrary, I believe that they have 
done, and are doing, much good, and are deserving of high 
praise ; but I hope that, without offence, in a community such 
as Birmingham, there are other objects not unworthy in the 
sight of heaven, and objects of recognised utility which are 


worthy of support — principles which are practised in word 
and deed in Polytechnic Institutions — principles for the dif- 
fusion of which honest men of all degrees and of every creed 
might associate together, on an independent footing and on 
neutral ground, and at a small expense, for the hetter under- 
standing and the greater consideration of each other, and for 
the hetter cultivation of the happiness of all : for it surely 
cannot he allowed that those who lahour day hy day, sur- 
rounded hy machinery, shall he permitted to degenerate into 
machines themselves, hut, on the contrary, they should assert 
their common origin from their Creator, at the hands of those 
who are responsihle and thinking men. There is, indeed, no 
diflference in the main with respect to the dangers of ignorance 
and the advantages of knowledge hetween those who hold dif- 
ferent opinions — for it is to he observed, that those who 
are most distrustful of the advantages of education, are always 
the first to exclaim against the results of ignorance. This fact 
was pleasantly illustrated on the railway, as I came here. In 
the same carriage with me there sat an ancient gentleman (I 
feel no delicacy in alluding to him, for I know that he is not 
in the room, having got out far short of Birmingham), who 
ox])re8sed himself most mournfully as to the ruinous effects and 
mj)i(l pprond of railways, and was most pathetic upon the virtues 
of tlio slow-jT()ing old stage-coaches. Now I, entertaining some 
little lingering kindness for the road, made shift to express 
my concurrence with tlie old gentleman's opinion, without any 
gHMit C(inn>roTnise of principle. Well, we got on tolerably com- 
fortably together, and when the engine, with a frightful screech, 
ilived into some dark abvss, like some strange aquatic monster, 
the old gentliMuan sjiid it would never do, and I agreetl with 
him. When it parted from each successive station, with a 
shock and a shriek as if it had had a double tooth drawn, 
the oM gentleman shook his head, and I shook mine. When 
he burst forth against such new-fangled notions, and said no 
good couUl come of them, I did not contest the point. r>ut I 
fouutl that when the speed of the engine was aK-ited. or there 
was a j>rolongetl stay at any station, up the old gentleman was 
at arms, and his watch was instantly out of his pocket, de- 
nouncing the slowness of our progress. Xow I could nol lu-lp 
comparing this old gentleman to that ingenious class of j>ersons 
who are in the constant habit of declaiming against the vices 

- I 

THE ^ 

THE, ^ '^, , .-r, K-Orf 

PUBLIC liaV.k^^ 


• ./ 


and crimes of society^ and at the same time are the first and 
foremost to assert that vice and crime have not their common 
origin in ignorance and discontent. 

The good work^ however, in spite of all political and party 
dififerences, has heen well hegun ; we arc all interested in it ; it 
is advancing, and cannot he stopped hy any opposition, although 
it may he retarded in this place or in that hy the indifference of 
the middle classes, with whom its successful progress chiefly 
rests. Of this success I cannot entertain a douht ; for whenever 
the working classes have enjoyed an opportunity of effectually 
rebutting accusations which falsehood or thoughtlessness has 
brought against them, they always avail themselves of it, and 
show themselves in their true characters ; and it was this which 
made the damage done to a single picture in the National (inl- 
Icry of London, hy some poor lunatic or cripple, a mere matter 
of newspaper notoriety and wonder for some few days. This, 
then, establishes a fact evident to the meanest compreliension — 
that any given number of thousands of individuals, in the 
humblest walks of life in this country, can pass through the 
national galleries or museums in seasons of lioliday-making, 
without damaging, in the slightest degree, those clioico and 
valuable collections. I do not myself Ixjlieve that the working 
classes ever were the wanton or mischievous persons they wore 
so often and so long represented to he ; but I rather incline 
to the opinion that some men take it into their heads to lay it 
down as a matter of fact, without being particular about the 
premises ; and that the idle and the prejudiced, not wishing to 
have the trouble of forming opinions for thcmsclveH, tak(* it for 
granted — until the people have an opportunity of disproving 
the stigma and vindicating themselves before the world. 

Now this assertion is well illustrated by wliat occurred 
respecting an equestrian statue in the metropolis, with respect 
to which a legend existed that the sculptor hanged himself, 
because he had neglected to put a girth to the horse. This 
story was currently believed for many years, until it was in- 
spected for altogether a different purpose, and it was found 
to have had a girth all the time. 

But surely if, as is stated, the people are ill-disposed and 
mischievous, that is the best reason that can be offered for 
teaching them better; and if they are not, surely that is a 
reason for giving them every opportunity of vindicating their 


injured lepataiion ; and no better opportunity could ponlbly be 
afforded than that of associating together Toluntaiily for such 
high purposes as it is proposed to carry out by the establish- 
ment of the Birmingham Polytechnic Institution. In any case 
— nay, in every case — if we would reward honesty, if we 
would hold out encouragement to good, if we would eradicate 
that which is evil or correct that which is bad, education — 
comprehensive, liberal education — is the one thing needful, 
and the only effective end. If I might apply to my purpose, 
and turn into plain prose some words of Hamlet — not with 
reference to any government or party (for party being, for the 
most part, an irrational sort of thing, has no connection with 
the object we have in view) — if I might apply those words to 
education as Hamlet applied them to the skull of Yorick, I 
would say — '' Now hie thee to the council-chamber, and tell 
them, though they lay it on in sounding thoughts and learned 
words an inch thick, to this complexion they must come at 


London, April 6, 1846 

[Mr. Dickens took the chair at the first anniversary festival of the General 

Theatrical Fund Association, at the London Tavern.] 

(tKntlkmex, — In offering to you a toast which has not as 
yet been publicly drunk in any company, it becomes incum- 
bent on me to offer a few words in explanation : in the first 
place, premising that the toast will be " The General Theatrical 

The Association, whose anniversary we celebrate to-night, 
was founded seven years ago, for the purpose of granting per- 
manent pensions to such of the corjis draviatique as had retired 
from the stage, either from a decline in their years or a decay 
of their powers. Collected within the scope of its benevolence 
are all actors and actresses, singers, or dancers, of five years' 
standing in the profession. To relieve their necessities and 
to protect them from want is the great end of the Society, and 
it is good to know that for seven years the members of it have 
steadily, patiently, quietly and perse veringly pursued this end, 
advancing by regular contribution, moneys which many of them 
could ill afford, and cheered by no external help or assistanoe 

LONDON, APBIL 6, 1846 438 

of any kind whatsoever. It has thus served a regular appren- 
ticeship, hut I trust that we shall estahlish to-night that its 
time is out, and that henceforth the Fund will enter upon a 
flourishing and hrilliant career. 

I have no douht that you are all aware that there are, and 
were when this institution was founded, two other institutions 
existing of a similar nature — Covent Garden and Drury Lane 
— hoth of long standing, hoth richly endowed. It cannot, 
however, he too distinctly imderstood, that the present institu- 
tion is not in any way adverse to those. How can it he when it 
is only a wide and broad extension of all that is most excellent 
in the principles on which they are founded ? That such an 
extension was absolutely necessary was sufficiently proved by 
the fact that the great body of the dramatic corps were excluded 
from the benefits conferred by a membership of either of these 
institutions ; for it was essential, in order to become a member 
of the Drury Lane Society, that the applicant, either he or she, 
should have been engaged for three consecutive seasons as a 
performer. This was afterwards reduced, in the case of Covent 
Garden, to a period of two years, but it really is as exclusive 
in one way as the other, for I need not tell you that Covent 
Garden is now but a vision of the past. You might play the 
bottle conjurer with its dramatic company and put them all 
into a pint bottle. The human voice is rarely heard within its 
walls save in connection with corn, or the ambidextrous presti- 
digitation of the Wizard of the North. In like manner, Drury 
Lane is conducted now with almost a sole view to the opera 
and ballet, insomuch that the statue of Shakespeare over the 
door serves as emphatically to point out his grave as his bust 
did in the church of Stratford-upon-Avon. How can the pro- 
fession generally hope to qualify for the Drury Lane or Co- 
vent Grarden institution, when the oldest and most distinguished 
members have been driven from the boards on which they have 
earned their reputations, to delight the town in theatres to 
which the General Theatrical Fund alone extended ? 

I will again repeat that I attach no reproach to those other 
funds, with which I have had the honour of being connected at 
different periods of my life. At the time those associations 
were established, an engagement at one of those theatres was 
almost a matter of course, and a successful engagement would 
last a whole life ; but an engagement of two months' duration 



I) H :<■».•»; 

at OoT«nt Garden would be a perfect Old Fur of an engagement 
jnet now. It ahould neyer be foigotten that when those two 
fonde weie eetaUiahedy the two great theatree were protected bj 
patent^ and that at that time the minor theatree were condemned 
by law to the repreeentation of the meet prepoeteiDiui noneenae, 
and eome gentlemen whom I eee around me oonld no more 
belong to the minor theatree of that day than they could now 
belong to St Bartholomew fair. 

Ab I honour the two old fonda for the great good which they 
haye done, so I h<moar this for the mnch greater good it is 
resolved to da It is not because I loye them lessy hot becanse 
I love this more — because it includes more in its operation. 

Let us ever remember that there is no class of actors who 
atand so much in need of a retiring fund as those who do not 
win the great prizes^ but who are nevertheless an essential part 
of the theatrioil system, and by consequence bear a part in con- 
tributing to our pleasures. We owe them a debt which we 
ought to pay. The beds of such men are not of roeesy but 
of very artificial flowers indeed. Their lives are lives of care 
and privation, and hard struggles with very stem realities. It 
is from among the poor actors who drink wine from goblets, 
in colour marvellously like toast and water, and who preside 
at Barmecide feasts with wonderful appetites for steaks, — it 
is from their ranks that the most triumphant favourites have 
sprung. And surely, besides this, the greater the instruction 
and delight we derive from the rich English drama, the more 
we are bound to succour and protect the humblest of those 
votaries of the art who add to our instruction and amusement. 

Hazlitt has well said that " there is no class of society whom 
so many persons regard with affection as actors. We greet them 
on the stage, we like to meet them in the streets ; they almost 
always recall to us pleasant associations." ^ When they have 
strutted and fretted their hour upon the stage, let them not be 
heard no more — but let them be heard sometimes to say that 
they are happy in their old age. When they have passed for the 
last time from behind that glittering row of lights with which 
we are all familiar, let them not pass away into gloom and 
darkness, — hut let them pass into cheerfulness and light — 
into a contented and happy home. 

1 Hazlitt'8 Hound Table (Edinburgh, 1817, vol. ii. p. S4S), § On Aden amd 

GLASGOW, DECEMBER 28, 184^ 435 

This is the ohject for which we have met; and I am too 
familiar with the English character not to know that it will he 
effected. When we come suddenly in a crowded street upon 
the careworn features of a familiar face — crossing us like the 
ghost of pleasant hours long forgotten — let us not recall those 
features with pain, in sad rememhrance of what they once were, 
bat let us in joy recognise it, and go hack a pace or two to meet 
it once again, as that of a friend who has beguiled us of a 
moment of care, who has taught us to sympathise with virtuous 
grief, cheating us to tears for sorrows not our own — and we all 
know how pleasant are such tears. Let such a face be ever 
remembered as tha^ of our benefactor and our friend. 

I tried to recollect, in coming here, whether I had ever been 
in any theatre in my life from which I had not brought away 
some pleasant association, however poor the theatre, and I pro- 
test, out of my varied experience, I could not remember even 
one from which I had not brought some favourable impression, 
and that, commencing with the period when I believed the 
clown was a being bom into the world with infinite pockets, 
and ending with that in which I saw the other night, outside 
one of the '' Koyal Saloons," a playbill which showed me ships 
completely rigged, carrying men, and careering over boundless 
and tempestuous oceans. And now, bespeaking your kindest 
remembrance of our theatres and actors, I beg to propose that 
you drink as heartily and freely as ever a toast was drunk in 
this toast-drinking city, '' Prosperity to the General Theatrical 

Glasgow, Decembbb 28, 1847 

[Mr. Dickens presided at the first Soir^, commemorative of the opening of 
the Glasgow Athenaeam.] 

Ladies and Gentlemen, — Let me begin by endeavouring 
to convey to you the assurance that not even the warmth of 
your reception can possibly exceed, in simple earnestness, the 
cordiality of the feeling with which I come amongst you. This 
beautiful scene and your generous greeting would naturally 
awaken, under any circumstances, no common feeling within 
me ; but when I connect them with the high purpose of this 
brilliant assembly — when I regard it as an educational example 


and encoungcment to the lest of Scotland — when I ngud it 
no lett as a leoognitkm on the part of eveiybody haie ci tbe 
right, indiapiatable and inalienable, of all thoae who are actiTaly 
engaged in the work and business of life to elevate and improve 
themselves so &r as in them lies, hy all good means — I iml as 
if I stand here to awear brotheihood to all the young man in 
Glasgow; — and I may say to all the young women in Glas- 
gow ; being unfortunately in no position to take any teaderar 
yows upon myself — and as if we were pledged from this time 
henceforth to make common cause together in one of the most 
laudable and worthy of human objects. 

Ladies and gentlemen^ a common cause must be msde in snch 
a design as that which faringi us together this night; for with- 
out it nothing can be done, but with it everything. It is a 
common cause of right, God knows ; for it is idle to suppose 
that the advantages of such an institution as the Glaigov 
AthenaBum will stop within its own walls or be confined to ita 
own members. Through all the society of this great and im- 
portant city, upwards to the highest and downwards to the lowest^ 
it must, I know, be felt for good. Downward in a clearer pep- 
oepiion of, and sympathy with, those social miseries which can 
be alleviated, and those wide-open doors to vice and crime that 
can be shut and barred ; and upward in a greater intelligence, 
increased efficiency, and higher knowledge, of all who partake 
of its benefits themselves, or who communicate, as all must do, 
in a greater or less degree, some portion to the circle of relatives 
or friends in which they move. 

Nor, ladies and gentlemen, would I say for any man, how- 
ever high his social position, or however great his attainments, 
that he might not find something to be learnt even from immedi- 
ate contact with such institutions. If he only saw the goddess 
Knowledge coming out of her secluded palaces and high places 
to mingle with the throng, and to give them shining glimpses 
of the delights which were long kept hoarded up, he might 
learn something. If he only saw the energy and the courage 
with which those who earn their daily bread by the labour of 
their hands or heads, come night after night, as to a recreation, 
to that which was, perhaps, the whole absorbing business of his 
youth, there might still be something very wholesome for him 
to learn. But when he could see in such places their genial 
and reviving influences, their substituting of the contemplation 

GLASGOW, DECEMBER 98, 1847 437 

of the beauties of nature and art, and of the wisdom of great 
men, for mere sensual enjoyment or stupid idleness — at any 
rate he would learn this — that it is at once the duty and the 
interest of all good members of society to encourage and protect 

I took occasion to say at an Athenaeum in Yorkshire a few 
weeks since, and I think it a point most important to be borne 
in mind on such commemorations as these, that when such 
societies are objected to, or are decried on the ground that, in 
the views of the objectors, education among the people has not 
succeeded, the term education is used with not the least refer- 
ence to its real meaning, and is wholly misunderstood. Mere 
reading and writing is not education ; it would be quite as 
reasonable to call bricks and mortar architecture — oils and 
colours art — reeds and cat-gut music — or the child's spelling- 
books the works of Shakespeare, Milton, or Bacon — as to call 
the lowest rudiments of education, education, and to visit on 
that most abused and slandered word their failure in any in- 
stance ; and precisely because they were not education ; because, 
generally speaking, the word has been understood in that sense 
a great deal too long ; because education for the business of 
life, and for the due cultivation of domestic virtues, is at least 
as important from day to day to the grown person as to the child ; 
beeause real education, in the strife and contention for a liveli- 
hood, and the consequent necessity incumbent on a great num- 
ber of young persons to go into the world when they are very 
young, is extremely difficult. It is because of these things that 
I look upon mechanics' institutions and athenaeums as vitally 
important to the well-being of society. It is because the rudi- 
ments of education may there be turned to good account in the 
acquisition of sound principles, and of the great virtues, hope, 
faith, and charity, to which all our knowledge tends ; it is 
because of that, I take it, that you have met in education's 
name to-night. 

It is a great satisfaction to me to occupy the place I do in 
behalf of an infant institution ; a remarkably fine child enough, 
of a vigorous constitution, but an infant still. I esteem myself 
singularly fortunate in knowing it before its prime, in the hope 
that I may have the pleasure of remembering in its prime, and 
when it has attained to its lusty maturity, that I was a friend 
of its youth. It has already passed through some of the dis- 


orders to wliich chililren are liable; it succeeded to an «Ider 
brother of a very meritorious character, but of rather a >re«k 
eonatitution, and which expired wlien about twelve montba oH, 
from, it IB Baid, a deetractive habit of getting up early in the 
morning : it succeeded this elder brother, and has fought man- 
fully through a sea of troubles. Ite friends have often been 
much concerned for it ; its pulse bas been exceedingly loir, 
being only 1250, when it was expecteii to have been 10,000; 
Kevcral relations and friends have even gone so far as to walk 
oil' ODce or twice, in the melancholy belief that it was dead. 
Through all that, aasisted by the indomitable energy of one or 
two nurses, to whom it can never be sufficiently grateful, it 
oame triumphantly, and now, of all the youthful members of 
its family I ever saw, it has the atrongest attitude, the healthiest 
look, the brightest and most cheerful air. I find the institution 
nobly lodged ; I fiod it with a reading-room, a coffee-room, and 
a news-room ; I find it with lectures given and in progress, in 
sound, useful, and wpU-selocted subjects; I find it with morn- 
ing and evening classes for mathematics, logic, grammar, music, 
French, German, Spanish, .ind lUlii.i,, ,i\U-,,lA Lv .u.^i-irU of 
five hundred jpi-t.^ipti^ : Kul U-t II * ;" ,i ■ , !■, ii to 

me more sabUAujtory than anything else in the history of ttie 
institution, I find that all thia has been mainly achiered bj ths 
young men of Glasgow themselves, with very little sasisUnoe. 
And, ladies and gentlemen, as the axiom, "Heaven helps thon 
who help themaelves," Is truer in no case than it is in this, I 
look to the young men of Glasgow, from such a past and such a 
present, to a noble future. Everything that has been done in 
any other athennum, I confidently expect to see done here ; and 
when that sh^ be the case, and when there shall be great 
cheap schools in connection with the institution, and when it 
has bound together for ever all its friends, and brought over to 
itself all those who look upon it as an objectionable institatum, 
— then, and not till then, I hope the young men of GUqgOT 
will rest from their labours, and think their study done. 

If the young men of Glasgow want any stimulus or encourage- 
ment in this wise, tbey have one beside them in the presesee of 
their fair townswomen, which ie irreeistible. It is a moat de- 
lightful circnmstonce to me, and one fraught with inestimaUo 
benefits to institutions of this kind, that at a meeting of this 
Mtora those who in all things are our beet examples^ eneoor- 

GLASGOW, DECEMBER 28, 1847 439 

ageiSy and friends, are not excluded. The abstract idea of the 
Graces was in ancient times associated with those arts which 
refine the human understanding ; and it ia plecisant to see now, 
in the rolling of the world, the Graces popularising the prac- 
tice of those arts by their example, and adorning it with their 

I am happy to know that in the Glasgow AthensBum there 
is a peculiar bond of union between the institution and the 
Purest part of creation. I imderstand that the necessary addi- 
tion to the small library of books being difficult and expensive 
to make, the ladies have generally resolved to hold a fancy 
bazaar, and to devote the proceeds to this admirable purpose ; 
and I learn with no less pleasure that her Majesty the Queen, 
in a graceful and womanly sense of the excellence of this de- 
sign, has consented that the bazaar shall be held under her 
royal patronage. I can only say, that if you do not find some- 
thing very noble in your books after this, you are much duller 
students than I take you to be. The ladies, — the single ladies, 
at least, — however disinterested I know they are by sex and 
natnre, will, I hope, resolve to have some of the advantages of 
these books, by never marrying any but members of the Athe- 
nsTim. It seems to me it ought to be the pleasantest library 
in the world. 

Hazlitt says, in speaking of some of the graceful fancies 
of some familiar writer of fiction, ^' How long since I first 
became acquainted with these characters; what old-fashioned 
friends they seem ; and yet I am not tired of them like so 
many other friends, nor they of me." In this case the books 
will not only possess all the attractions of their own friendships 
and charms, but also the manifold — I may say womanfold — 
associations connected with their donors. I can imagine how, 
in fact, from these fanciful associations, some fair Glasgow 
widow may be taken for the remoter one whom Sir Roger de 
Coverley could not forget ; I can imagine how Sophia's muff 
may be seen and loved, but not by Tom Jones, going down the 
High-street on any winter day ; or I can imagine the student 
finding in every fair form the exact counterpart of the Glasgow 
AthensBum, and taking into consideration the history of Europe 
without the consent of Sheriff Alison. I can imagine, in short, 
how through all the facts and fictions of this library, these 
ladies will be always active, and that 



" Alt* wilt nni wHhtr ibein, nor ciutom nA 

Thfir Inflnit* rtritty." 

It •e*m« U> mo tc Ixj a moral, deligbtfiil. and bappy chi 
that thiit meeting baa been held at this gonial season of tii« 
year, vrhi-n a now time is, aa it were, opening before us, and 
whfn wo wlclirnto the birth of that diviue and blessed Teacher, 
who toiik tUd highnut knowledge into the faumblost place*, and 
wlioae great ayslom comprehended all mankind. I hail it m 
a moat auapioioua omen, at this time of the year, when many 
«oatt«rocl friends and familiex are n-usecmbled, for the metnb«n 
of thi» iiistitution to be calling men together tnia all qaar- 
tcw, with a brotherly view to the genenil good, and a view to 
Ihn guncml improvement ; as I oonsidor that such designs an 
pmotically worthy of the faith we hold, ami a pmctical remem- 
braiiDi) of the words, " On earth |waM, and good-will towitrd 
men." I liopti that every year which dawns on yotir Insti- 
tution will Itnd it richnr in itn means of usefulneaa, and gnyeT- 
beaded in the honour and mspeot it ha« gained. It can hftHly 
■peak for ItMlf nioru appropriately than in the words of an 
Kiiglinb writer, when con It' m plating the English emblem of this 
l^rM of Ihe year, the holly-lrre: — 

London, Maxcb 1, 1851 
[At ■ public dinner glmi to Uacrcadj, Sir E. B. hjtUn was la th* ebab.) 

Qentlbmen', — After all you have already beard, and n 
rapturously received, I assure you that not even the warmth of 
your kind welcome would embolden me to hope to interest you 
if I had not full confidence in the subject I have to otTer to 
your notice. But Taj reliance on the strength of this appeal to 
you is so strong that I am rather encouraged than daunted \y 
the brightness of the track on which I have to throw my littfo 

Gentlemen, as it seems to me, there are three great Teqaiat«a 
essential to the perfect realisation of a scene eo unusual and m 
splendid aa that in which we are now a«emhled. The first, 
and I must say very difficult, requisite is a man | 

LONDON, MARCH 1, 1851 441 

stronghold in the general remembrance, the indisputable claim 
on the general regard and esteem, which is possessed by my 
dear and much valued friend our guest. The second requisite is 
the presence of a body of entertainers, — a great multitude of 
hosts so cheerful and good-humoured (under, I am sorry to say, 
some personal inconvenience), so warm-hearted and so nobly in 
earnest, as those whom I have the privilege of addressing. The 
third, and certainly not the least of these requisites, is a presi- 
dent who, less by his social position, which he may claim by 
inheritance, or by fortune, which may have been adventitiously 
won, and may be again accidentally lost, than by his compre- 
hensive genius, shall fitly represent the best part of him to 
whom honour is done, and the best part of those who unite 
in the doing of it. Such a president I think we have foimd in 
our chairman of to-night, and I need scarcely add that our 
chairman's health is the toast I have to propose to you. 

Many of those who now hear me were present, I dare say, at 
that memorable scene on Wednesday night last,^ when the great 
vision which had been a delight and a lesson — very often, I 
dare say, a support and a comfort to you, which had for many 
years improved and charmed us, and to which we had looked for 
an elevated relief from the labours of our lives — faded from 
our sight for ever. I will not stop to inquire whether our 
guest may or may not have looked backward, through rather 
too long a period for us, to some remote and distant time when 
he might possibly bear some far-oflf likeness to a certain Spanish 
archbishop whom Gil Bias once served. Nor will I stop to 
inquire whether it was a reasonable disposition in the audience 
of Wednesday to seize upon the words : — 

" And I have bought 
Grolden opinions from all sorts of people, 
Which wonid be worn now in their newest gloss, 
Not cast aside so soon — *' ^ 

but I will venture to intimate to those whom I am address- 
ing how in my mind I mainly connect that occasion with the 
present. When I looked round on the vast assemblage, and 
observed the huge pit hushed into stillness on the rising of the 
curtain, and that mighty surging gallery, where men in their 

1 Mr. Macreadj's Farewell Benefit at Drury Lane Theatre, on which occasion 
he played the part of Macbeth, 
s Maebtth, Act I., sc. 7. 

iteUttoifiBi liaa hmtk rtrilmg oafc ttwir mmVk^^ltJkmgwmlm^ 
men — when I saw tiiai lioisleioqs kanMii food twiM aJfli 
water ma aomeiit^ and vemain ao fcoan liM opoaingto Hm aftl 
of the plajy ft aoggeatad to m aamathhig iMBdAaa Mm faiMl 
watChiiiflia al aa Eng^iah eaowd, and Ilia dahnkai nadar ivkieli 
tfaoaa Ubonr wbo an apl to di^an^ and nudlfpaUt H ai^ 
gesled to ma tbat in meeUng baia t04i|glil wa nndMook fta 
lapreaent aomafiiing of tiie aU-fMrrading laalittg of tiiii'ciawd, 
throni^ all ita intainiediate d ogi a o i s fkoan tta ftJMiouaad iac^, 
wifli h» djaaonda aparidrng upon har haaat^ in the inaamrtinn 
box, to tha baltnndfaaBod gentkanan, who bidaa hia tfana to 
take aome Nfiadiniant in tba bade row of tfaa gdlarjr* And I 
oonsidery gentlameni ttiat no one wlu^ ooold poarfUy lia plaead 
ki ^ta» ehdr oonld ao wall haad tbat omnpadiattaiTa naj^w a a M l to* 
lion, and eooldaoweUg^ the Clowning gaiaa to oigliiBtl I ilhWi 
aa <nie whoae eomprohenaiya ganioa luia in hia Tariooi wodoa 
amfaiacad tham alC and who haa, in Ida dramalJB gaida% aoK 
diianftod and wittiTallftd them all ai onoa» 

Gentlemen, it is not for me here to neall, after whal jea 
haye heard thia n%ht, what I ha^e aean and known in tiba 
bygone times of Mr. Macready's management, of the atroi^ 
friendship of Sir Bolwer Lytton for him, of the asaoeiation 
of his pen with his earliest snocesses, or of Mr. Macready'a 
zealous and untiring services ; but it may be permitted me 
to say what in any public mention of him I can never repreas, 
that in the path we both tread I have uniformly found him 
from the first the most generous of men ; quick to encourage, 
slow to disparage, ever anxious to assert the order of which he 
is so great an ornament ; never condescending to shuffle it off, 
and leave it outside state rooms, as a Mussulman might leave 
his slippers outside a mosque. 

There is a popular prejudice, a kind of superstition, to the 
effect that authors are not a particularly united body, that they 
are not invariably and inseparably attached to each other. I 
am afraid I must concede half a grain or so of truth to that 
superstition ; but this I know, that there can hardly be — that 
there hardly can have been — among the followers of literature, 
a man of more high standing, farther above these little grudging 
jealousies, which do sometimes disparage its brightness, than 

» Edward Bulwer Lytton. 
lad I have ttie abongest reason just at pieaent to hear my 

LONDON, APRIL U, 1851 443 

testiiQony to hia great consideration for those evils which are 
sometimes unfortunately attendant upon it, though not on him. 
For in conjunction with some other gentlemen now present, I 
have just emharked in a design with Sir Bulwer Lytton, to 
smooth the rugged way of young labourers, both in literature 
and the fine arts, and to soften, but by no eleemosynary means, 
the declining years of meritorious age. And if that project pros- 
per as I hope it will, and as I know it ought, it will one day be 
an honour to England where there is now a reproach ; originat- 
ing in his sympathies, being brought into operation by his 
activity, and endowed from its very cradle by his generosity. 
There are many among ydu who will have each his own favour- 
ite reason for drinking our chairman's health, resting his claim 
probably upon some of his diversified successes. According to 
the nature of your reading, some of you will connect him with 
prose, others will connect him with poetry. One will connect 
him with comedy, and another with the romantic passions of the 
stage, and his assertion of worthy ambition and earnest struggle 

" those twin gaolers of the haman heart, 
Low birth and iron fortnne." 

Again, another's taste will lead him to the contemplation of 
Kienzi and the streets of Rome ; another's to the rebuilt and 
repeopled streets of Pompeii ; another's to the touching history 
of the fireside where the Caxton family learned how to dis- 
cipline their natures and tame their wild hopes down. But 
however various their feelings and reasons may be, I am sure 
that with one accord each will help the other, and all will swell 
the greeting, with which I shall now propose to you, "The 
Health of our Chairman, Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton." 

London, April 14, 1851 

[Hr. Dickens presided at the Sixth Annual Dinner of the General Theatrical 
Fimd at the London Tavern.] 

I HAVE SO often had the satisfaction of bearing my testimony, 
in this place, to the usefulness of the excellent Institution in 
whose behalf we are assembled, that I should be really sensible 
of the disadvantage of having now nothing to say in propos- 

ing tM loait you all anticipaUt, if I were not well assured that 
then IB nsUy nothing which needs be satd. I bare to appeal 
to joa OD tbe old grounds, and no ingenuity of mine could 
im^W Aum grounds of greater weight tiian they hare hitbertA 
W K iO wrf lllj invved to you. 

Although the General Theatrical Fund Association, unlike 
manj otbtt [luhlic societies and endowmeots, is represented 
tj no fa«ldm<;. whether of stone, or brick, or glass, like Uiat 
aatoniahiiig evidence of the skill and energy of my friend Atr, 
FkzlM, whidi all the world is now called upon to admire, and 
Um gnat meait of which as you learn from the best authoiities 
i^ that it ought to have fallen down long before it was built, 
and yet Ait it would by no means consent to doing eo — 
aUhoogb, I H^, this Association possesses no architectural home, 
it ia nvTerth^ess as plain a fact, rests on as eolid a foundatioo, 
and oatTtM as erect a front, as any building in the world. And 
the beet and the utmost that its exponent anii its advocate can 
do, irtinHing here, is to point it out to those who gather round 
it, and to «;, " tiwige iat jr<Muiiei¥«a," 

It ma; not, howwra)*, be' improper flgr me to wgg ai t to tt«l 
poition of the company whose pieTJooa aoqudntance with ft 
may hare been limited, what it is not It ia not a theatrical 
association whose benefits are confined to a small and ozdo- 
sive body of actors. It ia a society whose claims an always 
preferred in the name of the whole histrionic art. It is not 
a theatrical association adapted to a state of theatrical thinga 
entirely past and gone, and no more suited to present theatrical 
requirements than a string of pack-horses would be suited to tbe 
conveyance of traffic between London and Birmingham. It is 
not a rich old gentleman, with the goat in his ritals, bmsbed 
and got up once a year to look as v^^rous as possible, and 
brought out for a public airing by the few surrirois of a large 
family of nephews and nieces, who afterwards double-lock the 
street door upon the poor relations. It is not a theatrical asao- 
ciation which insists that no actor can share its bounty who has 
not walked so many years on those boards where the English 
tongue is never heard — between the little bare of marie in 
an aviary of singing birds, to which the unwieldy Swan of Avon 
is nerer admitted — that bounty which was gathered in tbe 
name and for the eleration of an all-embracing art 

2^0, if then be such things, this thing is not of that kind. 

LONDON, APRIL 14, 1851 445 

This is a theatrical association, expressly adapted to the wants 
and to the means of the whole theatrical profession all over 
England. It is a society in which the word exclusiveness is 
wholly unknown. It is a society which includes every actor, 
whether he be Benedict or Hamlet, or the Ghost, or the Bandit, 
or the court-physician, or, in the one person, the whole King's 
army. He may do the " light business," or the " heavy,'' or the 
comic, or the eccentric. He may be the captain who courts the 
young lady, whose imcle still unaccountably persists in dressing 
himself in a costume one hundred years older than his time. 
Or he may be the young lady's brother in the white gloves and 
inexpressibles, whose duty in the family appears to be to listen 
to the female members of it whenever they sing, and to shake 
hands with everybody between all the verses. Or he may be 
the baron who gives the fete, and who sits uneasily on the sofa 
under a canopy with the baroness while the f^te is going on. 
Or he may be the peasant at the fete who comes on the stage 
to swell the drinking chorus, and who, it may be observed, 
always turns his glass upside down before he begins to drink 
out of it Or he may be the clown who takes away the door- 
step of the house where the evening party is going on. Or he 
may be the gentleman who issues out of the house, on the 
false alarm, and i& precipitated into the area. Or, to come to 
the actresses, she may be the fairy who resides for ever in a 
revolving star with an occasional visit to a bower or a palace. 
Or the actor may be the armed head of the witch's cauldron ; 
or even that extraordinary witch, concerning whom I have 
observed in country places, that he is much less like the notion 
formed from the description of Hopkins than the Malcolm or 
Donalbain of the previous scenes. This society, in short, says, 
" Be you what you may, be you actor or actress, be your path 
in your profession never so high, or never so low, never so 
haughty, or never so humble, we offer you the means of doing 
good to yourselves, and of doing good to your brethren." 

This society is essentially a provident institution, appealing 
to a class of men to take care of their own interests, and giving 
a continuous security only in return for a continuous sacrifice 
and effort. The actor by the means of this society obtains his 
own right, to no man's wrong ; and when, in old age, or in 
disastrous times, he makes his claim on the institution, he ia 
enabled to say, '' I am neither a beggar nor a suppliant. I am 


but reaping what I sowed kmg ago." And therefore it is 
that I cannot hold out to you that in aiwiBting this fund tou 
are doing an act of charity in the common acceptation of that 
phrase. Of all the abuses of that much-abused term, none 
have more raised my indignation than what I have heard in 
this room in past times, in reference to this institution. I say, 
if you help this institution you will be helping the wagoner 
who has resolutely put his own shoulder to the wheel, and who 
has m^ stuck idle in the mud. In giving this aid you will be 
dv>ing au act of justice, and you will be performing an act of 
gratitude ; and this is what I solicit from you ; but I will not 
iM> far wr\>ug those who are struggling manfully for their own 
iluW|^f»tui«ttCl> as to pretend to entreat from you an act of 

I haY<» used the word gratitude ; and let any man ask his 
v>wu tuMurt« and conf<iN» if he have not some grateful acknow- 
Wdgtuvutijt K>r the actors art? Not peculiarly because it is 
a t^i\>fv'(jt«k>tt often pursued, and as it were marked, by poverty 
au4 mu<Jk>irtutte — f^^r other callings^ Crod knows, have their 
dv^rvtww *~ ttor because the actor has sometimes to come from 
i^vti^m of !Mckrt**i<s^ of jjiiflVring. ay, even of death itself, to play 
htr* iniri. lvl*«'r\i \i}< — f<>r all of us, in our spheres, have a^ uften 
h.» Jt» vn»Ifjn.v to onr ff.*«:'lin«jr> and to hide our hearts in fii:hrin!j 
'. !»:a ••«■<»: -mmIo y't I'fV. and in ditfchanrinu: our duties .ind 
• ••'M-'i '.fs. \>ii'.. tix* art i}i the actor excites red^rcrions, 
o'iii'»j«' v»r .;»'"ivsij'M.'» iwful or humoDJUS. which we are all 
iujiijI-.i:- N^tiii. Li .i.'iy rtum wyre to tell me that he denied his 
ul^'ix'w Irvi;;MhMiLM r.o iht? sta^^e. I wouM dimply put to him one 
.(u\-..i'»'ii ^\'ioi'jor 1)0 T>jrrn*m^ered his Hrvt play? 

*' voii. ;t<ij !riiu*n» \V'I1 -Ml" <:arrv buck yi.Mir rec. li»fcti« n to 
■••Ki. ;M-.t. lif^iii. iiiu .i^i'A 'v 'riiiid 'ii»« brii^hr and harmiestj wtM 
H'>.\.» u II »t'V'i*'»' ■" '''iir ' '\'\v. '.V -ihaii, L rnink. hear ta"'-ur- 
k ♦»; '. \\. kUw ij'v'ii ' "iir ^i'l'j-riiuv '11 •'iiis ccaj^ij-n fi-rni :iir 

''I.. . u- xi\' I '■•.(.' .'i -iiri.'.MiLr^ 'I 'ills k:n«i — "he -i.i'h 

■• - «• I • K.\» :i.^ ih«' "'iila ii'^vM li-or i'.iinvr. His a'lrM?, 

• ♦ .• .• » •ti-*v'i 'I ii' laiiio 'i *su'K:-t«'n«'. 'VI" i.iii i;i 

I « 'i^-^i - *\.'ti".' -t'l'ii'i. ma *iiar i.- -:'-n»*riI 
K...: ' ■» -.^ t.^ >.i ill' Mii; •♦'iiuii :oii. *,'nL; Tiav t i*-* -♦• . 

LONDON, DECEMBER 90, 1864 447 

cere wish) to exchange our congratulations on its prosperity ; 
and longer than the line of Banquo may be that line of figures 
which, as its patriotic share in the national debt, a century 
hence shall be stated by the (rovemor and Company of the 
Bank of England. 

London, December 30, 1854 

[Mr. Dickens presided at the Anniversary Dinner in oommemontion of the 
foundation of the Commercial Travellers' School.] 

I THINK it may be assumed that most of us here present know 
something about travelling. I do not mean in distant regions 
or foreign countries, although I dare say some of us have had 
experience in that way, but at home, and within the limits of 
the United Kingdom. I dare say most of us have had experi- 
ence of the extinct " fast coaches," the " Wonders," " Tag- 
lionis," and " Tallyhos," of other days. I dare say most of us 
remember certain modest post>chaises, dragging us down inter- 
minable roads, through slush and mud, to little country towns 
with no visible population, except half a dozen men in smock- 
frocks, half a dozen women with umbrellas and pattens, and a 
washed-out dog or so shivering under the gables, to complete 
the desolate picture. We can all discourse, I dare say, if so 
minded, about our recollections of the " Talbot," the " Queen's 
Head," or the " Lion " of those days. We have all been to 
that room on the ground-door on one side of the old inn-yard, 
not quite free from a certain fragrant smell of tobacco, where 
the cruets on the sideboard were usually absorbed by the skirts 
of the box-coats that hung from the wall ; where awkward ser- 
vants waylaid us at every turn, like so many human man-traps ; 
where county members, framed and glazed, were eternally pre- 
senting that petition which, somehow or other, had made their 
glory in the county, although nothing else had ever come of it. 
Where the books in the windows always wanted the first, last, 
and middle leaves, and where the one man was always arriving 
at some unusual hour in the night, and requiring his breakfast 
at a similarly singular period of the day. I have no doubt we 
could all be very eloquent on the comforts of our favourite 
hotel, wherever it was — its beds, its stables, its vast amount of 


postiiig, ite ezoellent eheeae, ito hettd waiter, iftB oftpital duihMi 
its pigdODrpiefly or its 1820 port. Or posdliljr we oonld raedl 
oar chaste and innooent admiration of its landlady, or our faa- 
temal regard for its handsome chambermaid. A oelefanted 
domestic critic once writing of a famous actteas, renowned for 
her Tirtae and beauty, gave her the chaiacter of being an 
<< eminently gatheiable-to-one's-aniis sort of person/' Periiaps 
some one amongst us has borne a somewhat similar tribute 
to the mental charms of the fair deities who presided at our 

With the trayelling characteristics of later times, we are all, 
no doubt, equally familiar. We know all about that station to 
which we must take our ticket, althougb we never get titers; 
and the other one at which we arrive after dark, certain to find 
it half a mile from the town, where the old road is sure to have 
been abolished, and the new road is going to be made — where 
the old neighbourhood has been tumbled down, and the new 
one iB not half built up. We know all about that party on the 
platform who, with the best intentions, can do nothing for our 
luggage except pitch it into all sorts of unattainable plaoesL 
We know all about that short omnibus, in which one is to be 
doubled up, to the imminent danger of the crown of one's hat ; 
and about that fly, whose leading peculiarity is never to be 
there when it is wanted. We know^ too, how instantaneously 
the lights of the station disappear when the train starts, and 
about that grope to the new Railway Hotel, which will be an 
excellent house when the customers come, but which at present 
has nothing to offer but a liberal allowance of damp mortar and 
new lime. 

I record these little incidents of home travel mainly with the 
object of increasing your interest in the purpose of this night's 
assemblage. Every traveller has a home of his own, and he 
learns to appreciate it the more from his wandering. If he has 
no home, he learns the same lesson unselfishly by turning to the 
homes of other men. He may have his experiences of cheerful 
and exciting pleasures abroad ; but home is the best, after all, 
and its pleasures are the most heartily and enduringly prized. 
Tlierefore, ladies and gentlemen, every one must be prepared to 
learn that commercial travellers, as a body, know how to prise 
those domestic relations from which their pursuits so frequently 
sever them ; for no one could possibly invent a more delightful 


lore convincing testimony to the fact than they themaelvea 
"n founding and maintaining a school for the chU- 
dien of deceased or unfortunate members of their own body ; 
those children who now appeal to you in mute hvit eloquent 
terms from the gailery. 

It is to support that school, founded with such high and 
friendly objecla, bo very honourable to your cnlHiig, and so 
useful in ita solid sad practical results, that we are here to- 
night. It is to roof that building which is to shelter the 
children of your deceased friends with one crowning ornament, 
tbe best that any building can have ; namely, a receipt stomp 
for the full amount of the cost. It is for this that your active 
eympathy is appealed to, for the completion of your own good 
work. You know how to put your hands to the ]jloiigh in 
earnest as well as any men ia existence, for this little book 
informs me that you raised last year no less a sum than £8U(H) ; 
and while fully half of that sum consisted of now donations to 
the building fund, I find that the regular revenue of the charity 
liaa only suffered to the extent of £30. After this, I most 
wirnostly and sincerely say that were we all authors together, I 
might boast, if in my profession were exhibited the snme unity 
and steadfastness I find in yours. 

I will not urge on you the coaualtiee of a life of travel, or 
the viciHsitiides of businosp, or the claims fostered by that bond 
of brotherhood which ought always to exist amongst men who 
aT« united in a common pursuit. Vou have already recognised 
those claims bo nobly, that I will not presume to lay them 
bofore you in any further detail. Butfico it to say that 1 do 
not tliink it is in your nature to do things by halves. I do not 
think you could do so if you tried, and 1 have n moral certainty 
that you never will try. To those gentlemen present who are 
not members of the travellers' body, I will say, in the words 
of the French proverb, " Heaven helps t})ose who help them- 
mlves." The Commercial Travellers having helped themselves 
ao gallantly, it is clear that the vbitors who eome ns a sort of 
celestial representatives ought to bring that aid in their pockets 
which the precept teaches us to expect from them. With 
then few remarks, I >>eg to give you as a toast, " Suceeas t« tW 
OwniaerciBJ Travel Jere' School." 

London, Mat 30, 1305 

>f tho Nempapn 

Ladies axd Gestlbmen, — When a young child is pK>- 
ihicail after dinner to be shown to a circle of admiring rolatioiu 
and friends, it may generally be observed that their conversation 

— 1 aiippose in an instinctive remembrance of th« uncertainty 
of infant life — takes a retrospective turn. Aa how much the 
child has grown since the last dinner; what a remarkably fine 
chilli it is, to have been bom only two or three years a^'O ; how 
much stronger it looks now than before it had the mi>4>ilt-3, and 
so forth. When a young inatitution ia produced after dinner, 
there in not the same uncertainty or delicacy as in the case of 
the child, and it may be confidently predicted of it that if it 
deserve to live it will surely live, and that if it deserve to die 
it will surely die. The proof of desert in such a case as this 
must be mainly sought, 1 suppose, firftlv. in what the society 
iiieiins to do with its money; secondly, h\ tlii~ ivli'rii i'> which 
it is supported by the class with whom it origin&ted, and tar 
whose benefit it ia designed ; and, lastly, in the power of its 
hold upon the public I add thia lastly, because no such insti- 
tution that ever I beard of ever yet dreamed of existing apart 
from the public, or ever yet considered it a d^radation to 
accept the public support. 

Now, what the Newspaper Press Fund proposes to do with 
its money is to grant relief to members in want or distress, and to 
the widows, families, parents, or other near relativea of deceased 
members in r^ht of a moderate provident annual subecTiption, 

— commutable, I observe, for a moderate provident life sub- 
scription, — and its members comprise the whole paid class of 
literary contributors to the picss of the United I^ngdom, simI 
every class of reporters. The number of its members at thia 
time last year was something below 100. At the present time 
it is somewhat above 170, not including 30 members of the 
preas who are regular subscribers, but have not as yet qnalified 
aa r^ular members. This number is steadily on the increase, 
•vA only as regards the metropolitan press, bat also as regards 

M ptovinci&l throughout the country. I have obeeired within 

LONDON, MAT 20, 1865 451 

these few days that many members of the press at Manchester 
have lately at a meeting expressed a strong brotherly interest in 
this Institution, and a great desire to extend its operations, and 
to strengthen its hands, provided that something in the inde- 
pendent nature of life assurance and the purchase of deferred 
annuities could be introduced into its details, and always assum- 
ing that in it the metropolis and the provinces stand on per- 
fectly equal ground. This appears to me to be a demand so 
very moderate, that I can hardly have a doubt of a response on 
the part of the managers, or of the beneficial and harmonious 
results. It only remains to add, on this head of desert, the 
agreeable circumstance that out of all the money collected in 
aid of the society during the last year more than one third came 
exclusively from the press. 

Now, ladies and gentlemen, in regard to the last claim — the 
last point of desert — the hold upon the public — I think I 
may say that probably not one single individual in this great 
company has failed to-day to see a newspaper, or has failed to- 
day to hear something derived from a newspaper which was 
quite unknown to him or to her yesterday. Of all those rest- 
less crowds that have this day thronged the streets of this 
enormous city, the same may be said as the general gigantic 
rule. It may be said almost equally, of the brightest and the 
dullest, the largest and the least provincial town in the empire ; 
and this, observe, not only as to the active, the industrious, and 
the healthy among the population, but also to the bedridden, 
the idle, the blind, and the deaf and dumb. Now, if the men 
who provide this all-pervading presence, this wonderful, ubiqui- 
tous newspaper, with every description of intelligence on every 
subject of human interest, collected with immense pains and 
immense patience, often by the exercise of a laboriously acquired 
faculty united to a natural aptitude, much of the work done in 
the night, at the sacrifice of rest and sleep, and (quite apart 
from the mental strain) by the constant overtasking of the two 
most delicate of the senses, sight and hearing — I say, if the 
men who, through the newspapers, from day to day, or from 
night to night, or from week to week, furnish the public with 
80 much to remember, have not a righteous claim to be remem- 
bered by the public in return, then I declare before God I know 
no working class of the community who have. 

It would be abeurd^ it would be impertinent^ in such an 

BfiHembly at tliis, if I were to attempt to expatiate npon the 
extraoniinar; coinbiuatJou of romurkable qualities inTolved in 
the productiou of any newspaper. But a-ssuminj^ the majonty 
of this asBociated boUy to bo compofied of reporters, because 
reporters, of one kind or other, compose the majority of the 
lil«rary statT of almost every De.wt>paper thot is not a CMiiiipila- 
lion, I would veuture to remind you, if I delicately may, in the 
Buguitt preiscnce of members of Parliatnent, how much w, the 
public, owe to the reporters if it were only for their ekUl lu the 
two great si;iences of condensation and rejection. Conceive 
what our sufferings, under an Imperial Parliament, hovrerer pop- , 
ularly constituted, under however glorious a eonstitutioa, would 1 
be if the report«rs could not ekip. Dr. Johnsou, in one of h» 
violent assertions, declared that " the man who wag afraid a( 
anything must be a scoundrel, sir." By no means Innding 
myself to this opiaion — though admitting that the man who is 
afraid of a newspaper will generally be found to be rather some- 
thing like it — I must still freely own that I shoidd approach 
my parliamentary debate with infinite fear and trembling if it 
were so unskilfully served up for my breakfast. Ever since Iba ^ 
time when the old man and hia son took their donkey Iionw, 
which were the old Greek Jays, I Ix'licve, and probably ever 
lince the time when the donkey went into the uk — perh^M 
he did not like hia accommodation there — bat ceituoly from 
that time downwards, he has objected to go in any directioa 
required of him — from the remotest periods it haa been foond 
impossible to please everybody. 

1 do not for a moment seek to conceal that I know this 
Institution has been objected to. As an open £act challenging 
the freest discussion and inquiry, and seeking no sort of shelter 
or favour hut what it can win, it has nothing, I apprehend, hot 
itself to urge against objection. No institution conceived in 
perfect honesty and good faith has a right to object to being 
queationed to any extent, and any institution so based must be 
in the end the better for it. Moreover, that this sotaety haa 
been questioned in quarters deserving of the moat respeetfol 
attention, I take to be an indisputable fact. Xow, I for one 
have given that respectful attention, and I have come out erf 
the discussion to where you see me. The whole circle of the 
arts is pervaded by institutions between whieh and this I can 
descry no difference. The painters' art has four or five eoch 

LONDON, MAT 90, 1865 458 

institutions. The musicians' art, so generously and charmingly 
represented here, has likewise several such institutions. In my 
own art there is one, concerning the details of which my nohle 
friend the president of the society and myself have torn each 
other's hair to a considerahle extent, and which I would, if 
I could, assimilate more nearly to this. In the dramatic art 
there are four, and I never yet heard of any ohjection to their 
principle, except, indeed, in the cases of some famous actors 
of large gains, who, having through the whole period of their 
successes positively refused to estahlish a right in them, be- 
came, in their old age and decline, repentant suppliants for their 
bounty. It is urged against this particular Institution that it 
is objectionable because a parliamenteu*y reporter, for instance, 
might report a subscribing M. P. in large, and a non-subscrib- 
ing M. P. in little. Apart from the sweeping nature of this 
charge, which, it is to be observed, lays the unfortunate mem- 
ber and the unfortunate reporter under pretty much the same 
suspicion — apart from this consideration, I reply that it is no- 
torious in all newspaper ofiices that every such man is reported 
according to the position he can gain in the public eye, and 
according to the force and weight of what he has to say. And 
if there were ever to be among the members of this society 
one so very foolish to his brethren, and so very dishonourable 
to himself, as venally to abuse his trust, I confidently ask those 
here, the best acquainted with journalism, whether they believe 
it possible that any newspaper so ill-conducted as to fail in- 
stantly to detect him could possibly exist as a thriving enter- 
prise for one single twelvemonth ? No, ladies and gentlemen, 
the blimdering stupidity of such an offence would have no 
chance against the acute sagacity of newspaper editors. But I 
will go further, and submit to you that its commission, if it 
be to be dreaded at all, is far more likely on the part of some 
recreant camp-follower of a scattered, disunited, and half-recog- 
nised profession, than when there is a public opinion established 
in it, by the union of all classes of its members for the common 
good: the tendency of which imion must, in the nature of 
things, be to raise the lower members of the press towards the 
higher, and never to bring the higher members to the lower 

I hope I may be allowed, in the very few closing words that 
I feel a desire to say in remembrance of some circumstances, 


lather special, attending my present occupation of this chair, to 
give those words something of a personal tone. I am not here 
advocating the case of a mere ordinary client of whom I hare 
little or no knowledge. I hold a hrief to-night for my brothers. 
I went into the gallery of the House of Commons as a parlia- 
mentary reporter when I was a boy not eighteen, and I left 
it — I can hardly believe the inexorable truth — nigh thirty 
years ago. I have pursued the calling of a reporter under cir- 
cumstances of which many of my brethren at home in England 
here, many of my modem successors, can form no adequate 
conception. I have often transcribed for the printer, from my 
shorthand notes, important public speeches in which the strictest 
accuracy was required, and a mistake in which would have been 
to a young man severely compromising, writing on the palm of 
my hand, by the light of a dark lantern, in a post-chaise and 
four, galloping through a wild country, and through the dead 
of the night, at the then surprising rate of fifteen miles an hour. 
The very last time I was at Exeter, I strolled into the castle 
yard there to identify, for the amusement of a friend, the spot 
on which I once '^ took," as we used to call it, an election 
speech of my noble friend Lord Russell, in the midst of a 
lively fight maintained by all the vagabonds in tliat division 
of the county, and under such a pelting rain, that I remember 
two good-natured colleagues, who chanced to be at leisure, held 
a pocket-handkerchief over my note-lK)ok, after the manner of 
a state canopy in an ecclesiastical procession. I have worn 
my knees by writing on tbeni on the old l)ack row of the old 
gallery of the old House of Commons ; and I have worn my feet 
by standing to write in a preposterous pen in the old House 
of Lords, where we used to be huddled together like so many 
sheep, — kept in waiting, say, until the woolsack might want 
restutling. Returning home from excited political meetings in 
the country to the waiting press in London, I do verily believe 
I have been upset in almost every description of vehicle known 
in this countrv. 1 have been, in mv time, belated on mirv 
by-roads, towards the small hours, forty or fifty miles from 
London, in a wheelless carriage, with exhausted horses and 
drunken postboys, and have got back in time for publication, to 
be received with never-forgotten compliments by the late Mr. 
Black, coming in the broadest of Scotch from the broadest of 
hearts I ever knew. 


Ladies and gentlemen, I meQtion iLese trivial thiugs els an 
assurance to you that I never have forgotten tlie finjciiiutiun of 
that old pursuit. The pleasure that I used to fceJ iu the 
rapidity and dexterity of its exercise has nevei' faded out oC my 
breast. WTiatever little cunning of hand or head 1 tuuk to it, 
or acquired in it, I have so retained as that I fully believe 
I could resume it to-inorrow, very little the worae from loiig 
disuse. To this present year of my life, when I sit in this 
hall, or where not, hearing a dull gpeecb, the pheuumenoa docs 
occur — I Eonictimes beguile the tedium of the moment by 
mentally following the speaker in the old, old way ; and some- 
times, if you can believe me, I even find my hund going an the 
tablc-ciolb, taking an imaginary note of it all. Accept these 
little truths as a confirniatioa of what I know ; as a confirma- 
tion uf my imdying interest in this old calling. Aectspl tliem 
KB a proof that my feeling for the vacation of my youth is not a 
sentiment taken up to-night to be thrown away to-morrow — 
but is a faithful sympathy which is a part of myself. I verily 
believe — I am sure — that if 1 bad never quitted my old 
calling I should have been foremost and zealous in the interests 
of this Institution, believing it to be a sound, a wholeeomo, 
' and a good one. Ladies and geiilleiacn, I am to propose to you 
to drink "Prosperity to the Newspaper I'ress Fund," mth 
which toast I will connect, as to its acknowledgment, a name 
that has shed new brilliancy on even the foremost newspaper 

R world — the illustrious name of Mr. Bussoll, 
London, September 17, 1867 
public meeting of the Prinlen' Re«d(jre, hold »I Uia 8nlisbury eulel.] 
IT as the last meeting was convened, not to hoar him, 
but to hear a statement of facts and figures very nearly atfecting 
the personal interests of the great majority of those present, his 
preface to the proceedings necil be very brief. Of the details 
of the question ho knew, of his own knowledge, absolutely no- 
thing ; but he bad consented to oixuvij tbe tViftt >.vftN.V«L\. wr»»*sq. 
ttfl nqneal of the London \a30o\ttt\ow o^ Q«t wiuaw.<;.V'fe»_ 
: first, because t.o Wwi.^V.'l"' *~^ 


and publicity in 8ucb cases were a very wholesome example Teiy 
much needed at this time, and were highly becoming to a body 
of men associated with that great public safeguard — the Press ; 
secondly, because he knew, from some slight practical experienee, 
what the duties of correctors of the press were, and how their 
duties were usually discharged ; and he could testify, and ^d 
testify, that they were not mechanical, that they were not mere 
matters of manipulation and routine ; but that they required 
from those who performed them much natural intelligence, 
much superadded cidtivation, readiness of reference, quickness 
of resource, an excellent memory, and a clear understanding. 
He most gratefidly acknowledged that he had never gone 
through the sheets of any book that he had written, without 
having presented to him by the correctors of the press some- 
thing that he had overlooked, some slight inconsistency into 
which he had fallen, some little lapse he had made — in short, 
without having set down in black and white some unquestion- 
able indication that he had been closely followed through the 
work by a patient and trained mind, and not merely by a skilful 
eye. And in this declaration he had not the slightest doubt 
that the great body of his brother and sister writers would, as a 
plain act of justice, readily concur. For these plain reasons he 
was there ; and being there he begged to assure them that every 
one pH'sent — tliat every speaker — would have a patient hear- 
ing, whatever his opinions might be. 


LoNDoy, November 2, 1867 

fOn Saturday evening, Novembor 2, 18GT, a prand cnmplimentarv farewell 
diun^'r wa"* ^iv»'n to Mr. Dickeii'* at the Freemason**' Tavern on the occa5ion 
of hi"* n'vifitinf^ the I'nited State?«of Anifrioa. Ix>rd Lytton officiated a.<* chair- 
man, and proposird as a toast — "A PmspfTous Voyape, Health, and Lon^; 
Lif«- to our IlIu«'triou«» (fue«»t and Countryman, Chnrle?* Dickens." The tOMt 
wa> drunk with all the honours, and one cheer more.] 

My Lords, Ladies, and rjEXTLEMEX, — No thanks that 
I Ciin ollVr yo\i can express my sense of my reception by this 
groat assemblage, or can in the least suggest to you how deep 
the glowing wonls of my friend the cliairman, and your accept- 
ance of them, have sunk into my heart. But both combined 

LONDON, NOTEMBSR 2, 1867 457 

have 80 greatly shaken the composure I am used to command 
in the presence of an audience, that I hope you may observe 
in me some traces of an eloquence more expressive than the 
richest words. To say that I am fervently grateful to you, is 
to say nothing ; to say that I can never forget this beautiful 
sight, is to say nothing ; to say that it brings upon me a rush 
of emotion, not only in its present pride and honour, but in the 
thoughts of its remembrance in the future by those who are 
dearest to me, is to say nothing ; — but to feel all this for the 
moment, even almost to pain, is very much indeed. Mercutio 
says of the wound in his breast, dealt him by the hand of a 
foe, that — " 'T is not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church- 
door ; but H is enough, 't will serve." ^ I may say of the 
wound in my breast, newly dealt to me by the hands of my 
friends, that it is deeper than the soundless sea, and wider than 
the whole Catholic Church. And I may safely add that it has 
for the moment almost stricken me dumb. I should be more 
than human, and I assure you I am very human indeed, if I 
could look around upon this brilliant representative company 
and not feel greatly thrilled and stirred by the presence of so 
many of my brother artists, not only in literature, but also in 
the sister arts, especially painting, among whose professors, 
living and unhappily dead, are many of my oldest and best 
friends. I hope that I may, without presumption, regard this 
thronging of my brothers around me as a testimony on their 
part that they believe that the cause of art generally has been 
safe in my keeping, and that they think it has never been 
falsely dealt with by me. Your resounding cheers just now 
would have been but so many cruel reproaches to me if I 
could not here declare that, from the earliest days of my 
career down to this proud night, I have always tried to be true 
to ray calling. Never unduly to assert it, on the one hand, 
and never, on any pretence or consideration, to permit it to 
be patronised in my person, on the other, has been the steady 
endeavour of my life ; and I have occasionally been vain enough 
to hope that I may leave its social position in England some- 
thing better than I found it. Similarly, and equally I hope 
without presumption, I trust that I may take this general rep- 
resentation of the public here, through so many orders, pursuits, 
and degrees, as a token that the public believe that, with a 

1 S4meo and Juliet, Act III., sc. 1. 


I V.,... v-ry yuung, 


: .■..!i.j',i!:i..ii. introdi 

l-ul i:: 

iviu'ii.- ill tliis|)lat- 


^ y.:. So have I h*. 


LJi-ii t.i.iitTjlly to thi. 

litt].' o 

r ii« [<>vu of urt for ii 


I'.iri' l<j uckiiowlcdge 

oHU ex 

jH'i'ifiicG hia UDifoniil\ 

siy tl.i, 

t vi my couutrymen, a. 



Bh&Il be upon the eea. You will rea<Iily conceive that I am 
iaapired besides hy a natural desire to see for myself the as- 
tontshiitg change imd progress of a quarter of a century over 
there, to grasp the hands of many faithful friends whom I left 
Upon those shoros, to see the faces of a multitude of new friends 
Upon wliom I have never looked, and last, not least, to use my 
best endeavour to lay down a third cable of intarcommunication 
and alliaijee betweea the old world and the new. Twelve years 
■go, when Heaven knows I little thought I should ever be 
bound upon the voyage which now liea before me, I wrote in 
that form of my writings which obtains by far the most ex- 
tensive circulation, these words of the American nation: "I 
know lull well, whatever little motes my beamy eyes may have 
descried in theirs, that they are a kind, largo-hearted, generous, 
and great people.'' In that faith 1 am going to see them again ; 
in that faith I shall, please God, return from them iu the 
spring ; in that sauie faith to live and to die'. I told you in 
the beginning that I could not thank you enough, and Heaven 
knows I have most thoroughly kept niy word. If 1 may quote 
one other short sentence from myself, let it imply all that I 
have left unaiid, and yet most deeply feel. Let it, putting a 
girdle round the earth, comprehend both sides of the Atlantic 
lA once iu this moment, and so, ae Tiny Tim observed, " God 
bleu us every one." 


New York, Aprh. 20, 1808 

[Ut. Dickeni'i lait reidini; in the United Suios wm ((iven nl tlie 8tala«>y 
Hall un Ibfl aboTe d«if. The Uxk (iiiii>1ied, hf was ur>uu( lo ntin, but k 
Ircmcndoui bunt of applause slopped bini. Ha uaniv [onrird aatl iipuke 

Ladfrs and Gkxtlemen-, —The shadow of one word has 
inipewled over me this evening, and the time has come at length 
wbea the shadow niuRt fall. It is but a very short one, hut 
tfa« weight of such things is not measured by their length, 
and two much shorter words express the ruui)d of our human 
existence. Wien I was reading '* David Copi>erfi«ld " a few 
evenings since, t felt there was mote iVitvu wwuvV *\^'mSv«;ki!^ \a, 
Oi^ irords of feggotty, "My lulure \\^« Wea OT«t 'Oa* » 
giuat now , \ \x!A V 

the green English summer weather, 
a mere public audience, but rather as 
and ever with the greatest gratitude 
ation. Ladies and gentlemen, I beg 
bless you, and Grod bless the land in 

Stdenham, August 

[The International University Boat Race hi 
the London Rowing Club invited the crews to 
on the next Monday. The dinner was follow 

Gentlemen : Flushed with firewor 
you as about to imitate those gorgeo 
brief spirt and then dying out. And, 
visitor of the London Rowing Club 
occasion, I will beg, in the name of 
present — always excepting the disti 
the cause of our meeting — to thank t 
esty and the courtesy with which he h 
the most agreeable part of his evenii 
graceful in him to do this because he c 
he might very easily do it himself, as 1 
in which it is according to good taste f 
thinors that tbft rrroof orkniol wJ«^ «•*«*»-.! 

eternsl adieu. ^ I take up the presiiient' 
trary, as a proof of his mvich liiglior worth, and of my real 
terest in the cause in which it was thrown down, aod I now 
profess my readiness to do even injustice to the duty which be 
has assigned me. 

Gentlemen, a very reiuarkable and affecting volume was puV 
lished in the United States within a ehort time before my last 
visit to that hospitable land, containing ninety-five biographies 
of young men, for the most part well bom and well nurtured, 
and trained in various peaceful pursuita of lite, who, when the 
flag of their country waved them from those quiet paths in 
which they were seeking distinction of various kinds, took arms 
in the dread civil war which elicited so much bravery on both 
sides, and died in the defeucB of their country. These great 
spirits diEplayed extraordinary aptitude in the acquisition, even 
in the invention, of military tactics, in the combining and com- 
manding of great masses of men, in surprising readiness of self- 
resource for the general good, in humanely treating the sick and 
the wounded, and in winning to themselves a very rare amount 
of personal confidence and trust. They had all risen to be dis- 
tinguished soldiers ; tlicy had all done deeds of great heroism ) 
they had all combined with their valour and self-devotion ft 
serene cheerfulness, a quiet modesty, and a truly Christian 
spirit ; and they had all been educated in one school — Haryard 

Uentlemen, nothing was more remarkable in these fine de- 
Boendants of our forefathers than the invincible determination 
with which they fought against odds, and the undaunUble spirit 
with which they resisted defeat. 1 ask you, who will say after 
last Friday that Harvard University is less true to herself in 
peace than she was iu war? I ask you, who will not recognise 
in her boat's crew the leaven of her soldiers, and who does not 
feel tiiat she has now a greater right than over to be proud of 
her sons, and take these aone to her breast when they return 
with resounding acclamations ? It is relatiKl of tJie Duke of 
Wellington that he once told a lady who ftwlishly protested 
that slie would like to see a great victory that there was oiJy 
one thing worse than a great victory, and that was a 

, ^ t. gentlemen, there is another aenae '«v I'Vix'Sa ^« 
1 Kobort Browninic : BtlU nnd PonKgToit«iM»- 

4IS HH B lUliJtft Mr iptfoaati 

*i(M.4 'i 

tim m gnat d«tMl. Sndi b ilie ddhtt <rf a handM of daAig 
fsUows who make a prdiminaxy daah ol time or four fhoninil 
gtonny nilaa to meet great conquercxn on their own dooiam — 
who do not want tiie ttbnuliis of fcieiids and homei hut who 
anffleienUy hear and feel their own dear land in the ahouta and 
eheera ol another— -and who ateire to the last with a deqieiate 
tenadtj that makea the heating of them a new feather hi the 
piondeat oq^ Qentlemeni yon agree with me that aneh a defeat 
it a greaty nohle part of a manlj, wholeamne action; and I aay 
that it ia in the eeMnee and life4ilood ol aodi a defeat lo 
heoome at laat aura Tiotoiy. 

Kow, gentlametty you know paEleotfy well the toaat I am 
gc^ to pcopoae, and 70a know eqnall j well that in thus g|an» 
eing first towaida our frienda tif the white atripea, I vcumltf 
anttsipate and respond to the inatineliTe eonrteej of Ozfori 
towarda our hrotiien from a dietanoe — a eonrteqr extendtngi I 
hope, and I do not doabt^ to any imagfaiaUle limite eze^ allow- 
ing them to take the first plaoe fat laat Friday'a match, if they 
.ecmld hy any human and honomahle meana be kept in the aee- 
end. I wQl not a^ail myaelf of the opportunity pro?ided lor 
me hy the absence ol the greater part c^ the Chrfofd crew — 
indeed| of all but one, and that its most modest and devoted 
member — I will not avail myself of the golden opportunity 
considerately provided for me to say a great deal in honour c^ 
the Oxford crew. I know that the gentleman who attends here 
attends under unusual anxieties and difficulties, and that if he 
were less in earnest his filial affection could not possibly allow 
him to be here. 

It is therefore enough for me, gentlemen, and enough for 
you, that I should say here, and now, that we all unite with 
one accord in regarding the Oxford crew as the pride and flower 
of England — and that we should consider it very weak indeed 
to set anything short of England's very best in opposition to or 
competition with America; though it certainly must be con- 
fessed — I am bound in common justice and honour to admit 
it — it must be confessed, in disparagement of the Oxford men, 
as I heard a discontented gentleman remark last Friday night, 
about ten oVlock, when he was baiting a very small horse in 
the Strand — he was one of eleven with pipes in a chaise-cart 
— I say it must be admitted, in disparagement of the Oxford 
men, on the authority of this gentleman, that they have won so 

BTDENBAM, AT'GUST 80, 1889 463 

El that they could affoni to lose a little now, and that " they 

Jht to do it, but they won't." 

Gentiemen, in drinking to both crewa, and in ofTering the 
poor testimony of our thanks in acknowledgment of the gallant 
spectacle which they preeentod to countleea thousands last Fri- 
day, I am sure I express not only your feeling;, and my feeling, 
nnd the feeling of the Blue, but also the feeling of the whole 
people of England, when I cordially give them welcome to our 
English waters and English ground, and also hid them "God- 
speed " in Iheir voyage home. As the greater includes the less, 
and the sea hoMa the river, so I think it is no very bold augury 
to predict tliat in the friendly contests yet to come and to take 
place, I hD]>e, on both sides of the Atlantic — there are great 
river triumphs for Harvard University yet in store. Gentle- 
men, I warn the English portion of this audience that these are 
very dangerous men. Remember that it was an undergraduate 
of Harvard Uuiversity who served as a common seamau two 
years before the mast,' and who wrote about the best seA book 
in the English tongue. Kemember that it was one of those 
young Amcrii^n gentlemen who sailed his mite of a yacht across 
the Atlantic in mid-winter, nnrl who sailed in her to sink or 
swim with the men who believed in him. 

And now, gentlemen, in conclusion, animated by your cordial 
acquiescence, I will take upon myself to assare our brothers 
from a distance that the ntmost enthusiasm with which they 
can he received on their return home will find a ready echo in 
every corner of England — and further, that none of their im- 
mediate countrymen — I use the qualifying term immediate, for 
we are, as our president said, fellow-countrymen, God — 
thst none of their compatriots who saw, or who will read of, 
what they did in this great race, can he more thoroughly imbued 
with a aenae of their indomitable courage and their high desert* 
than are their rivals and their hosta to-night. Uenlkmen, I 
b«g to propose to you to drink the crewa of Harvard and Oxford 
University, and I beg to couple with that toaat the namea of 
[ [Jit; Simmona and Mr. Willan. 

1 R. H. Diint 


■ L 




St- James's Hall, MABcn 15. 1870 

[AI the close of the famrell reading.] 

Ladiks and Gextlehex, — It would be wotee thma idle 
-^lor it would be hypocritical and unleeling — if I were to 
iliegniae that I cloae thia episode in my life with feelings of veiy 
considerable pain. For eome tifteeo years, in this hall and in 
many kindred places, I have ha>l the honour of preaeotiDg my 
own cherished ideas before you for j-our recognition, and, in 
closely observing youi reception of them, hare enjoyed an 
amount of artistic delight and instruction which, perhap«, is 
given to few men to know. In this task, and in every other I 
have ever undertaken, a* a faithful servant of the public, always 
imbued with a sense of duty to them, and always striving to do 
bia best, I have been uniformly cheered by the readiest response, 
the moat generoua sympathy, and the most stimulating suppoH. 
Nevertheless, I have thought it well, at the full Bood-tide of 
jouT favour, to retire upon those older as«)ciations between us, 
which date from much further back than thc^e, and henceforth 
to devote mysclt csclueivelj to the art that first hrouj^ht us 
together. Lttdies sad gentlemen, in but two short weeks from 
tbis time I hope that you may enter, in your own homes, on s 
new series of readings, at which my asaistanoe will be indispen- 
sable ; ' but from these garish lights I vanish now for evermuv, 
with a heartfelt, grateful, respectful, and affectionate fareweU. 


LoiTDON, Mat 2, 1870 

[niia apaech, th« lut public addreBi b* Mr. Dickens, wu on tbc vocsiion of 
the Sacood Exbibition of the Roval Academj' in their new gatlerie* in Picca- 
dilly. The tout wu •' Litenton'"] 

Mr. pRBStDE>~T, your Royal Highnesees, my Lords and 
Gentlemen, — I beg to acknowledge the toast with which you 
have done me the great honour of associating my name. I beg 
to acknowledge it on behalf of the brotherhood of literature, 
present and absent, not forgetting an illustrious wanderer from 

I Alluding to the fonhcoming aerial ttorj of Bdmim DtbbJ. 







■ t 



,*»-r.«. ;:-.., 

I. •< 


the fold, whose tardy return to it we all hail with delight, and 
who now Bits — or lat«ly did ait — within a fow chairs of or on 
your loft hand. I hope I may also claim to acknowledge the 
toaat on hchulf of the sisterhood of literature also, although 
that " better half of huaan nature," to which Mr. Gladstone 
rendered hia graceful tribute, is unworthily represented here, in 
the present state of its rights and wrongs, hy the devouring 
monster, mnn. 

All the arts, and many of the sciences, hear vntness that 
women, even iu their present oppressed condition, can attain to 
quite OS great distinction, and con win quite as lofty names as 
men. Their emanci|>ution (na I am given to understand) 
drawing very near, there is no saying how snon they may 
" push us from our stools "' at these tables, or how soon our 
helter hiiif of human nature, standing in this place of mine, 
may eloquently depreciate mankind, addressing another better 
half of liuman nature sitting in the president's chair. 

The literary visitors of the JEtoyal Academy tonight desire 
me to coi^ratulate their hosts on a very interesting eshibition, 
in which risen excellence supremely asserts itself, and from 
which promise of a brilliant succession in time to come is not 
wanting, They naturally see with especial interest the writinge 
and persons of great men — historians, phUosophors, poets, and 
novelists, vividly illustrated around them here. And they hope 
that they may modestly claim to have rendered some little 
assistance towards tlie production of many of the pictures in 
thia magnificent gallery. For without the patient labours of 
aome among them, unhistoric history might have long survived 
in thia place j and hut for the reseaichea and wandering of 
others among them, the most preposterous countries, the most 
impossible peoples, and the absurdest superstitions, manners, 
and customs might have usurped the place of truth upon those 
walla. Kay, there is no knowing, Sir Francis Grant, what 
unlike portraits yon yourself might have painted if you had 
been left, with your sitters, to idle t^ens, unchecked reckless 
rumours, and undenounced lying malevolence. 

I cannot forbear, before I resume my seat, adverting to a 

Bud theme (the recent death of Daniel Mnclise), to which hia 

Royal Highness the Prince of Wales vna-lc B.\.Va^iift, Wi. "«> 

which the president referred w\th ftic eVwvoss&t* -A i(js^iN«oft 

Lfc^fi-. Since I first entered Voa \;v>^aa Wste, *■ ''«n "!««»=*. 



I indeed, it has been my conetant fortuae to nutnbotai 
my nparest and dearest friends members of the Royal i 
•mho have been its gmce and pride. They have so dropped 
from my side one by one that I already begin to feel like the 
HpaniRh monk of whom Wilkie tells, who had grown to believe 
that tho only realities around him were the pictures which be 
loved, and that all the moving life he saw, or ever had seen, 
was a ebadow and a dream. 

For many years I was one of the two most intimate friends 
and most constant companions of the late Mr. Macliso. Of his 
genina in liis chosen art I will venture to say nothing here ; but 
of hin prodigious fertility of mind and wonderful wealth of 
iutelll^ct t may confidently assert that they would have mttde 
him, if he had been so minded, at least as great a writer as he 
was a painter. The gentlest and most modest of men, the 
freeheKt as to his generous appreciation of young aspirant*, 
and the frankest and largest- hearted as to his peers, incapable 
of a Foi'did or ignoble thought, gallantly euetaiuing the true 
dignity of his vocation, without one grain of self-ambition, 
wholesomely natural at the last as at the first, " in wit a man, 
Bunplicity a child," no artist, of whateoerer denomination, I 
make bold to say, ever went to his rest leaving a golden 
memory more pure from dross, or having devoted himself with 
a truer chivalry to the art goddeas whom he worshipped. 



A'BBxm. ffilbeit Abbntt, L 113. 

Kill ginn to D. la Haw Tort, 1. IBS, 1 


i9.iiiDH>n.. i. iflo, IBS, 164 : 11. a»-aii 

Adimi. John Qoin'cy. i 'M- 



lUncnift. OWTK, 1. 147, 161. 

AbM, Jahn, letler lo, il. 157. 

■ ffl, 112. 

•■Itammbj Eodi.,'f i. », 28, S9, 181 


128; l>U«ID, IIM. 

Albur. ii 836. 338, 

BimiTdCuHts.l. IH., ). 35. fflK-213. 


AlcLudtr, ar.. 1, 147- 

B.HI., fl. 874. 875. 

AII>i>.SIrWllliH..t. 138. 


Alko, Mr>. Mury.l. B. 

B.jlU.,Mr., 174. 


"a"ul,: v"r;Hf.uu''d,-"l'.Bl-M 


S78.S86.S89.39-l;il. IB. 

102, 1<"*. Ill, 112, IJy. 1-JS, 1 

1,13::, 185, 

" RSUtlH Ol EDgUDd ud Wll», lb 

■ 1«4 1S6. 


la;! '.-'■- ;'. '''_' _i:'.-- 

Bm;her. Henn Wud. U. 306, 897, 

HB-i;8; flut imprcMioD 
101. 102; tiotela'in. 106 
170, 184. '361 ; il'. 283, 2a 

68-271; »uuMe»,^4-a 
a. 1. 70-17: II. in-Slli 

n. 415-127, 46a. 


»,30, 7 

ISO. 179. 192, 4«1. 

}. 181. 183. 
Tiat.i. 168,16e, 

1. 139, 146-147, 

" AliMTic MniilblT, Th*," I. 68. 

Aii»Ln, Hfnr;. i<IH>n M, I. 106, 108, ITS, 

293, 2S6. 297, 332 ; II. 63, 6T, 60. 
ADtllB, Mn. ntorr (LHida Uekou), kt- 

Mn to. U. Ue, 1T6, lie, 3S1. 

SSI; ._p«ch .1,421 
lion ci. 427-43i 

Bluckpool, II. 884. 

Bkaehud, I^tou. I. 86. 

" Bl«k Hour.'- 1. 47, 4S, 82, 806, S12. 316. 

BlI 32E, S26, B82, 833, 839. 
BlsHhigtoD, CouDtta ol. I. 28, 206 ; Ictlm 

to, 1^, 247, 
" Riot Id Iha 'SeaMhtoD, A," i. 190, 197. 

Rook-btrkji, li 

n. I. 296, 297. 

■Tnt Inn," 1. 68. 

•it to. I. 146-149; D.'a 

387-390. 2»6, 297. 299, 

noDDicHiib. uion, II. :cffi. -oit, lEOt. 
Bouloriw, L Sll-SlS, 826-841, 37B-3S6, 881 ; 

BonndnbT, J<>ii.h, 1, 12, 
BDWring, B\r John, Ictwr to, II. 136. 
Dow Stnal rnunan, It. 173, 174, 
Bo)>l., Cul. CnndUli, I. 396. 
—j\t, vim Mmt, I. 278, 817: II. 88, 127, 
1*8: lactm u, 1. 284, 290, 806,869, 396; 

li. 1, 4S, ST, m, ua, leo, M^, sis. 

a, orlclB of llu Don da plum*, L 18. Bu 


SrIrlH of A 

:rtu, I. 32, Gl. 

, . a. lOT, 109 
•OB,!. In. 
Hon WuitditbuOE 

Im, H M9. »a 

Ihblal KniihL I. el, m m. 
Uthl« Snlibl. AtlcJi of, I 81-« 
;. Robert, I 1B7 ; hu "Blot 
ulcbtaD.'' 198. 1»7; l«tUR to, 


Lr Bdwrnld, [. 41, St, m, 
niif* Slor.^," U- 141-144, 
M: Ilia " Lh1> nf Ujoot." 
STli tab! "L«I Till ol 

■lot,"^; tli 44% 44S: imUB 
«i U. 41. UaJlI-144, I6L lao, 

&1, iIl 273, mI • «" ™' ■ 

OulMt, bil ot. ItUcn ID. L 30; ; 11. 4M24. 
OKlfli, Tbamu, hll dHFriptkia of D > |iar- 

<, Mn. (ImrKe, l*ttwi U, H. 34G, 

Cvjx. M. d-. I. 49, M, m, MG 1 l>Um tn, 
Ht,171.37U,aH: li. 89,70, 94, 120,188, 
171, lUrt. 9>3, ^9, Ul, aM. in. 

Clulk.D.-ihcinoruHinU.I. II; M. 

CbtmoQDli. I. tSfi, S41-HS, 370. 

Ctaumrj. ii. as, 80. 

III. 129, 13 
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CcimHBHrv,!. 872, ai&, SSf, iUU, S4, £6. 



CraikBhank, George, 1. 40, 186, 187, 278. 

Craikshank, George, aketeh of, i. 86-88. 

CraikBhank, Iieac, I. 86. 

Gruikshank, Robert, i. 86, 87. 

CrummleB, Mr. Vincent, i. 119. 

Cuba, the steamahip, ii. 274-278, 280, 281, 

801, 810, 811, 823. 
Cumberland, ii. 6U, 61. 
Cunard packet, a, i. 148. 
Canard sUsamship "Rau{a,"848, 382, 888. 

Conningbam, Peter, letter to, I. 885. 

** Daily New8,** established with D. as editor, 
i. 36, 87, 45. 46. 

Dallas, Eneae Sweetland, ii. 216. 

Dana, Kichanl Henry, Jr., i. 147 ; his " Two 
Tears Before the Mast/* ii. 468. 

Dana, Richard Henry, Sr., i. 147. 

Dando, i. 174. 

Darley, Felix OctaTius Carr, sketch of, i. 

*«DaTid Copperfield,*' i. 8, 6, 8, 12, 16; be- 
gun, 41 ; its relation to D.'s own life, 41, 
42, 47 ; 268, 272, 278; D.'s fondness for, 
806, 807 ; 816. 

DaTis, Got. John, i. 160. 

De Foe's *' History of the Deril," i. 111. 

Delane^ John, letter to, i. 837. 

Derby, ii. 98, 94. 

Deronshiie, Duke of, i. 41 ; letters to, IL 18, 

DeTrient, Gustar Emil, i. 804. 

Dickens, Alfred Lamert, bom, 1. 8; dies, 
64; 427. 

Dickens, Alfred Tennyson, i. 277; ii. 127, 
172 ; letter to, U. 409. 

Dlekens, Charles : I. Bom, 1 ; his pcurent- 
age, 1, 2; his brothers and sisters, 2, 
8; his childhood, 8; his powers of ob- 
serration, 8; his memory, 8; his early 
fombiess for bookn, 4 ; goes to school, 
6 ; early risits to the theatre, 6 ; writes 
"Misnar, the Sultan of India," 6; pic- 
tores of early childhood drawn from his 
reeollections of himself, 6, 7 ; poverty, 7, 
8 ; goes to work in a blacking-warehouse, 
8, 9; his work and trials, 9-12; again 
sent to school, 18 ; first venture in writing 
and acting, 14; becomes a solicitor's 
clerk, 16 ; enters an attorney's office, 16 ; 
falls in love, 16 ; becomes a reporter, 16 ; 
thinks of going upon the stage, 18 ; begins 
writing for the ** Monthly Magasine,*' 18 ; 
takes the nom de plume Bos, 18 ; writes 
** Sketches br Bos'' for the ''Erening 
Chronicle,'* 19 : writes ** Scenes and Char- 
acters " for ** Bell's Life in London and 
Sporting Chronicle,' 19; his first pub- 
lished book, " Sketches by Bos ; Illustra- 
tire of Every-Day Life and Every-Day 
People, '» 19; begins " Pickwick," 20, 21 ; 
becomes engaged to Miss Catherine Ho- 
nrth, 20; writes for the "Library of 
Fiction," 21 ; marries, 21 ; his grief at 
the death of Mary Hogarth, 21, 22; fin- 
ishea *' Pickwick," 22 ; dramatic compo- 
sition, 22, 23 : writes a pamphlet protest- 
ing against strict Sabbatarianism, 22, 28 ; 
birth of liis eldest boy, 24 ; becomes editor 
of ''Bentley's MisceUany," 24; begins 

"OUTer Twist," 24; begins "Nicholas 
Nickleby," 26 ; agrees to write '* Bamaby 
Budge,'* 26 ; transfers all his oublishing 
interest to Chapman and Hall, 26 ; his pe- 
cuniary engagements, 26 ; glimpses of his 
inner consciousness, 26 ; extracts from his 
diary, 26-28 ; his feeUng for his friends, 
27; athletic exercise and amusements, 
27 ; publiHhing yentures, 27,28 ; launches 
a new periodical, 28 ; spread of his fame 
and enlargement of his personal friend- 
ship, 28; his personal appearance in 1S40, 
28; his Tisit to America, 29; writes 
*' American Notes" and "Martin Chus- 
tlewit," 80 ; writes " A Christmas Carol," 
81 ; decrease in his popularity as a writer, 
81; breaks with Chapman and Hall, 31, 82 ; 
makes engagements with Bradbury and 
Eyans, 82; selfishness and generosity, 
82 ; throws himself into the cause of edu- 
cation of the poor, 82, 88 ; fears money 
difficulties, 88, 84; goes to Italy, 84; 
writes *' The Chimes," 86 ; reads '* The 
Chimes " to a group of friends, 36 ; be- 
comes editor of the " Daily News," 86, 
87; resigns his editorship, 37; political 
ideas, 87 ; writes " Pictures from Italy," 
87; his visit to Switserland, 88; begins 
" Dombey and Son," 88 ; writes a narra- 
tive of Christ's life for his children, 88 ; 
his family in 1846, 88 ; goes to Paris. 88 ; 
returns to England, 89; illness of his 
eldest son, 39 ; takes a house in Regent's 
Park, 40 : success of " Dombey and Son " 
restores bis spirits, 40; amateur Uieatri- 
cals, 40 ; merits as an actor and manager, 
41; begins "David Copperfleld,'* 41; 
names a son after Henry Fielding, 42 ; in 
demand at public meetings, 42 ; founds 
"Household Words," 42-46; publUhes 
"A Child's History of England" and 
"Hard Times," 46; his radicalism, 46; 
chanjns his mode of literary eonstruction, 
47, 48 ; deattis of his sister and his father, 
48; death of his infant daughter, Dora 
Anne, and Forster's announcement of it, 
48 ; trips abroad, 49 : begins his public 
readings, 49, 60 : publishes *' Little Dor- 
rit," Sb ; feverish restlessness, 60, 61 ; 
moves to Oadshill Place, 62 ; effects an 
arrangement for private separation from 
his wife. 63, 64 ; domestic infelicity lead- 
ing to this step, 64-66 ; his high spirits 
return, 66; adopts public reading as a 
means of Fupport, 67, 68 ; bis delivery, 68, 
69 ; his success as a reader, 69, 60 ; his own 
manager, treasurer, and bookseller, 60 ; a 
Frencli translation of his work, 60; 
breaks off his connection with Bradbury 
and Evans and returns to Chapman and 
Hall, 61 ; discontinues " Household 
Words" and eoUblisbes "All the Year 
Round," 61 ; its success, 61, 62 ; pub- 
lishes " A Tale of Two Cities " 62 ; a fur- 
ther departure from his or^^nal style, 
02: sales of proof-sheets and rights to 
American publishers, 62, 68; domestic 
happenings, 64: considers an Australian 
reading-tour, 64, 66 ; writes " Our Mutual 
Friend," 66, 66 : his habit of Jotting down 
memoranda for books, 66, 66 ; illness and 

470 IXI^EX 

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L«T»rcl, Aniun Hrnn, I. 880, 171; IL Wl 

l.lUnIisi.40G,4(Ai li.US,KS.a«. 
" Ui; Toot ot T-d Idla Annalitm,ltm,' 

L JO ; a. 62. 
LKta, John, I. 40, 223, 411; II. as, M. 
LMcta, JobD, fXnrb^ i. si-tt. 
Uadi, U. B9, 90. 247. 
•' It^roi ol HoouoK, A," i. Ut. 
U|«d*in>ln, I. 1X1. Zn : ti. Xt, at. 
LHIrcx, Mr., i. 226. 227, a6L 
Lfbrnuo. Mn. F., Icllm ts^ IL U^ K, 


A, 82, 81, 87-88^*1. 

na," Uic L 886, 817. 
L a 1 U. 414, 416. 


UnrpoD), I. IM, 30!, 301, Sn3: II. Tg, "6, 
167, 32B, m !M. »£, Me, »S, :«3, a&g, 

Longfcllaw, Benir W., I. 81,147, 1B1, ISS; 

IL in, 3IB. »3, 3XS, am, »!, 349, !»>. 
tjcmniwi, ThOBiM, Icitsr lo, II. lU. 
LoM Cbler Buiuo, Iha, St fmtaiick Pol- 

Wk, i-'iir Id, U. IW. 
lAnI Mnwir, l.-KH.KIS. 
IdT.lJi N.lKilron, II. 4W, 4m. 
Un.jD», li., I0II.T. lo, I. 18S, BI. 
■' l,..i»> HinjrilDm," bj JehnHaDBllm, I. 

Lowlin, ^[.. I. le. 

i«witur, ur,, i. aen, 3r>B. 

loUan, Lord. Sa Uulwcr Litton, Sir KO- 

lijItoD, Sir Bawanl OuIwbt. j>n Balmi 

Lotion, Hod, Uobsri. t«tbin to, II, SCt, iSS, 

KtettJ, Clurlai, l»Wi Is, II. Ki. 

lafui. IIS. iM, iM, 322, an, xaa, aai, 

MS, 2SI,SW, 4SE>, 4flili lorin M, 1 IS, 

133, m, 

HwllM, nMW,«taMlin(, I, (II, n, 

'■ ~-llIui, Ihitounnr, 1, 131. 

IIUdOIwcW TSB, in, IBS, 

igaTsn, !48. a>Ti ii, 4i, 114, iss, ito, 

173.1711.21.7; 0,'(I|mhiIi ■!> dinMT (a, 
410 . U'ltcr: (o, II lU, ll», 118, IX, 141, 
iscl, ltK>. ^1. S3B, 364, 286. »T, BOO, 811, 
322,»Si, 415. tUi a, U, 18, 38, », W, 
43, SI, S6, 6S. IIS, 145, US, IH, 1ST, VX~ 

Kaeitmky, Mn Wllllwa ClurlM (the 3d|, 

IL 188. 
Ka^r, Ur« IMarj Tiltaqnl), MMr lo, U. 

"H»nlli CbDBltnit,'' i. 10, 80.31; 
oriolMsl.V: M, TT, ISl. IBIi, 198, 

MuUnmn, llimot, 1. \i». 

niHool, Tlu." IL 123. 

H>lhc>J> <>I OTillnu. D.'i, 1. 81, 287, 319. 
27)1. ;»2. 3.14, t0;-4(«, 412, 4« 1 l<. 49, 

" i. ;iW-3llt 

146, 148, IM, 318. IL»n,lia 


Mont tiW,'L»S, 188, 

Hoiitrenl, i. IH. 

HaoB, lARi MlfOr.i. 404. KS. 

Knon, Tbgmu. 1. 14G. 

"llu«Wopld*lhiinOn».'* I. 880,891. 

Mortbr, Mr., 1, 406, 4UH, 410. 

IT-^JU; l«lUrloItiftdltor(it,L10^, 
Honta, Uvn. Omym. L 1^3. 
HoUar, Jobii LotSnp. ii. 116. 
ML ViuTliu. D.-! uml ar, 1, 316-337, 
■■ Hr, HlBiu nod bu L'ourio," I, 1«. 
"Ur, Highllunle'iDliitT.-'I.Sae. 
■' Mudfmt P«i»r., Til.," i. 34, 
■■ Munbj JuneUon," 1. 67 ; II, 341, 
Mulgrmte, Lotd, 1. Hi. 

Hinc^, I. UL 

N«jU^r, >Ucn>T, kiltiis Cs, 1 . 183, 116, 19, 

K.|l*(, L lSS-337, 3U-3M, 871. 
Ntwcwrlkh l>iiki of. 1. 8»4, 30fi. 
NewM.lle-Mi.T,B..ll HUIW, 1(13, 193, ai. 
Noir Uatm. L ImSl, SXMH, USa. 

5«w«TKpBrFrwi faad, D,*anieHba«cliilT^ 

rau at ■ dhuiFf dI lb*, il. 4S», 
IttmHcan, I. Sn, 37. 31N: Amtrinn, 1. 

101, W. 170, lU, lOl ; 11, IBS, 3M, IBS. 

181, liM, 81P. 
H«Yotli,D.'>flMTliltin,LloS-166; !>.■< 

II. 1S4-80I, 9IS-S0e, 833-814. 388 : iiivrJiH 
al. 433, 4^, 
Kitnn Vallii, 1, 16U-1<», 171 , II, 833, 884, 

"NHholM Ill<>U.b»," i- 3, 13, 15 i bt«m, 

35i IT, 81, no, lis. I», 311. 
-IfsbodT<> Mult," L 431. 

1 .^^ J- 

lU uf India.'' L ft. 

(OF-lcli,Ji. I£&.l4 

' Sa TlioniuitUu*." I, «T : IL m 198. 300. 
SD8, 311, Sn. 813, 324, 344^8. 

"Oia Hunt't SMry. Th'," I. 318, ill), 
'■OllT.t T»I«."L 10, 11. Hi bigun, II; 

78,86.89.110,111,116.116; II. ft, 
Ollltr, Xdmand. IslWr- in, ii. I9T, S»S. 

oiiiit*.udr.L43K; l.tlut^n. w. 

Olllfla, )4lH>lDr*ii<w, iKUI lo, U, 880. 

Ollin>,6)r,Ta»pb, ILSHO, 


OrlraM nd Finlnaslu CoinnB*'! Staun- 

■blp Valaua, OTaroDwdlni at, I. 3G8-au, 

DhdoL J>bw R.. 1. ra, T^TT. INt. IW, 801. 


\ wrtiun. M.. Wl . ' --.-•--^»" 


rarh«ttllD0Dl Arnvrlau be 

■' p«>cnn* PiekU," 1. *78. 

mai.\ 1»-1W. 
PUlHbliibb. I. IW> U ll»-aM,aDM(». 

lull. Au knrwiw, OmblM KnlcU. 

'■PWiwl^' Tmn. Tht," I. t. 8, li Uj 
Uuir Muoliic, ID, a 1 M, 70. U-BB, 104, 

"n»Xk ht>*n. T*«," li 108. 


FteWMfcirlH Boal«w. I. Btt. 

FlMj. Marliai, 1. «». 

Plamlibstiniicr. I)». Sh Dlduu, Edward 

"Plonliv nl veirMr,. On tbt," i. SSO. SBL 

FIjwntfa, II. 71, 73, IW, 170, 

Podsnu, Ur. Joha, J- flfi. 

Ptlltl^ HndllJoo o< Knjtlud In IBSS, 1. 
«l8,410,Ui,4!6: In 1S6I. II. IS: la 1S59, 
SejCO: In IsaO. m; In 1^, OO. ni: 

BillllH Id Aoiarlei, i. ISL 

Pallork, Mn. FndHb-k. IXttr to, II. VX. 

FvllDdl, BIr Fnalvlck, Urd Cbifl Bum. 

iMtir Id, U. IM. 
PMl<i.John,l.88»,3tO; 11.309. 
>■ PdOt tUlktlDu'i Siarr, The,' I. 319. 
•■PoorT™T.ll.r. -nwrinil ■' 1. SM. 
" Pwr Timnltir. Tbf>," I. tSS. 

.MlwMitrciifHU. IL3 

FiHiklin ud hii pKtT, i. a>L 

Bulu, Lml, I.'m. 

Itaibwdi. ABHrian. L U6, IM; ii. ; 

soa, xe. 808, no. N&. 

Jtallni HdA °— — 

mi, £8. KG 

Knda. jDfan BJmsBd. 1. 331. 

Itediiw. Bnlidiin, i. SW. 8M. 

Badiiw, pnblli, L 49, W. 51 
atUnrr In, ES. fiSi llr ; !■ A 
70-71; U. ajlWIJBS. «B, S 

I. tbTmi, «ii,s%.aK, aw. «a.tH, 
39G, ai7, «H, m. «, 4»i jL ;. «, S8- 

Se. TO, Ta-74, 78-88, M-UO, Ul, )1& m. 

IM, lu, 118, uo, lu, UB-in, m, m. 

IW-184, U6, 187, a»^K. HI. M^ SH- 
S;, 8S>-»«, MB, 8TL 814-887. I»t. «i 

Iti«uri Fuk, L M. 

IUtn'l".>l«i«l.(ir,l.«n: iMten lu I. 831, 
£18. 4^1 it. 87,83.111.113,181. 

1.8. tlr'Gw4maai. 

i»Hu. iLi2,wi.isi,sa: 

ffi«; li. «, ISl, IBS. 

PTHCMt'a '■GonqDHI of Uulco.'' L 19 

FnM. public, D.'a daitn to (IdtiIf, I. 8 

87: of AntTtn. lai, 1S7. 17U. IH, 9): 
U. 98, 288, 3S8. 191, 98, 89: 1. 800, 
Pb-Ioo.iI. 187. ItW. 

PriDtin' Rntrn. D 
DHUng dI. 1. 87 : t 
IVMtvr, MloAdllalil 

IVoclri, Bijui Wall! 

I RHFh It ■ pi 

Ko^il AndflinT, D.'l tpafvb at fen vlblH- 
1: tlOBBf, li.t&l. 

KatdaD, Mr., Itlltn ta, U. SK. 8K. 887. 
8,1 408. 

' Rnikin, Jobs. hi> oplaloa ol OaUCTDola ■■ 
S. I u utUt. 1. 90. 
1 1 1 Roiii*!. AlMUdfT, U. K8. 

RuwU. Lent Jobs. L 1U&, 10« : IKUn t", L 
SHihSaO: 1I.SL5.3S8. 
I. Rd»«. <b* Canud aMunrblli, 11. SIl-MS. 

ie K.'1*d4. Anhsr, ]ell«i to. L 897. 408: U. 

"Cbariti IjuDb. 



8ftU, 0. A., on !>.'■ voblk nadtac L 6B. 

SammoDB, W. L^ letter t«, L 13Dl i 

tend, Ckoxfe, iL 6. 

flanndtn. John, his ** Love's M Ml t i d u M, 
L886,387; letter to, L 8K. 

Scarborough, iL 87, 8& 

"Scenes and CharMtert,'* L 19. 

Beheffer, Azy, iL 4, 14, 15, IfiS. 

*' Schoolboy's Story, The,*' L 

Scott, Sir Walter, L 91, 280, 408. 

Serenade to D., L 151. 

Serle, Mr., letter to, iL 861 

'* Seren Dials," L 12. 

*' Seren Poor TrsTeliens The," L 58w 

Seymoor, Mr., L 81, 82. 

Shakespeare's hoase, L 26L 

Sheffield, L 480 ; iL 7. 90, 91. 

**8he Stoops to Conqoer," L 805. 

Shrswsbnzy, L 116; theatre ai, 117 ; fi. 74. 

Simplon, L 221, 228, 848, 844, 346. 

•« Sketches by Bos," L 12, 19, 86. 

*' Sketches of Young Couples," L 34. 

"Sketches of Young Oentiemen," L 24. 

Slavery in America, i. 162, 164. 

Smartness and condescension in writing, D. 
on, iL 60, 51. I 

Smith, Arthur, L 68 ; iL 7^^, 82-86, 8^-80, 
98-96, 113, 124, 14^ 153-157, 161, 168; let- 
ten to, iL 96, 151. 

Smith, U. P., letter to, i. 256. 

Smith, RsT. Sydney, i. 86a 

** Smith, Sydney, Memoir of," by his daugh- 
ter. Lady Holland, i. 285. 

Smoking women, L 238, 289. 

SneTeUicci, Miss, L 117. 

Sparks, Jared, L 147. 

Sparks, Timothy, D.'s assumed name, L 81. 

" Spectator, The," i. 411. 

"Sporting" amusementu, i. 318. 

Springfield, Mass., i. 160. 

Stanfleld, Clarkson, i. 81, 86, 181, 182, 228. 
248,291,809,889,41;); U. 16, 83. 87, 88, 
186, 258, 260; letters to. L 209, 2^ 822, 
892,411,412,416; iL 202, 267. 

Stanfleld, George, letter to, iL 258. 

Stanley, Dean, L 79. 

Stanton, Edwin M., iL 313-316. 

Staplehnrst, railway accident at, U. 210- 

Steele, Richard, L 410, 411. 

Stirling, iL 260. 

Stone, Frank, L 40. 66, 806: iL 114; letters 
to, L 266, 294, 820, 826, 377, 886, 418 ; ii. 
27, 49, 66-6S, 96, 112. 

Stone, Marcus, i. 66, 414 ; ii. 114 ; letters 
to, ii. 196, 216. 

Stone, Frank, and Marcus Stone, sketch of, 
i. 96, 99. 

Storks, Mr. Sergeant, L 116. 

Storrar, Mrs., letter to, U. 20O. 

Stradella, i. 216. 

" Strange Gentleman, The," 1. 22, 118, 119, 

" Strange Story, A," by Bulwer Lytton, 11. 
141-144, 146, 161, 162, 160. 

Stratford-upon-ATon, i. 117. 

" Stray Chapters by Boi," 1. 24. 

Strikes, ii. 1. 

Stroughill, George, L 6. _ ^,„ _^ 

Sumner, Charles, I 147, 188; U. 818, 814, 

Sob, Hie.'* letter to the editor of, I. 

" Sunday under Three Heftda,** L 22, 81. 

SaDderiaBd, L 809 : iL 92. 

Sweedlepipe, Mr., L 10. 

Switaerland. D.'s Tisits to, i. 88, 221, SS2, 

228, 229, 234-211, 212; revolutioB in, MO, 

SwiTeller, Dick, L 16. 
Sydenham, D.'s speech at, ii. 460. 
Syraense, M. Y., iL 828-830, 3S3. 

Tkffsrt, ScT. Edward, letter to, i. 219. 

" Tale of Two Cities, A, " published, i. €2 ; 

81 ; ii. 111. 112, U3, 114. 120. 122, 123. 
Talfonrd, Mary, letter to, L 143. Srr Major, 

Talfourd, Sir Thomas Noon, i. 112, 126, 890 ; 

letter to, L 116. 
TaTistock House, i. 48. 64, 293-296 ; theat- 

ricals in, iL 32, 83, 85-40, 42; 125. 
" Taxes on knowledge.* L dOO, 801. 
Tennent, Udy, 1. 361, 8^ 854. 
Tennent, Sir James Emerson, i. 851, 852, 

364 ; iL 378,379; letters to, i. 369 ; iL 88, 

Tennyson, Alfred. L 175 ; his " IdylU of 

the King," iL lOS. 
Terry, Mi«s Kate. iL 184. 18& 
Thackeray, William Makepeace, i. 82, 88, 

91 ; ii. 196; letters to. L 405 ; ii. 65. 
Theatre, D.'s early Tisits to the, L5; at 

Shrewsbury, 117. 
Theatres in London, L 118, 119, 186, 190, 

248 ; ii. 12. 13, 15, 81, 66, 67, 137, 138, 177, 

180, 223, 243, 267, 268, 344, 345, 438-435, 

Theatres in Paris, L 24S, 250, 401 ; U. 2, 3, 6, 

178, 182-184. 
Theatricals, amateur, D.*s connection with, 

i. 40. 171. 172, 2.31, 263, 265, 262, 263, 272, 

278, 280-284. 287, 291. 298, 299, 302, 303, 

806, 306, 309-311 ; ii. 27, 28, 31-38, 85-40, 

43, 64-60, 107. See** If o Thoroughfare. '* 
Thompson, T. J., letter to, l. 204. 
Thombury, Walter, letters to, il. 178, 288, 

266, 270. 
Ticknor, W, D., !. 147. 
Ticknor and Fields, i. 68, 98. 
Timber, D.'s dog, i 208, 209. 
" Times, The,*' 1 871. 
Tomlin, John, letter to, 1. 182. 
Topham, F. W., L 299. 
Torquay, ii. 169, 170, 874. 
Townshend. Chauncey llarr, tl. 99, 105, 106, 

121, 140, 331, 872, 8^6, 
••Tra?elllng Abroad,'' L 4. 
" Trarelling Letters, written on the UomI, 

Trollope, Anthony, ii. 842. 

TroUope, Mrs, Frances, letters to, 1. 179, 

•• Troratore, II," L 847, 888. 
Tulkinghom, Mr., L 16. ^^ 

" Two Years Before the Mast," IL 468. 
Tyler, Pres. John, L lAO, 168. 
Tynemouth, IL 261, 968, 260. 

"Uncle John," II. 66-59. 

•• Uncle Tom'i Cabin," 1. 816. 

" Unoommerelal Trafeller, The," 1. 8, 4, 62 \ 


, ITiUiiutaB !!«» jLftioBS. i. II- 

-~ isll'i " On the Floikllty e( Wonb." 

" Vilstln." oiercrowdtng 

V«iil». I. SO, Mt, »T. 
Tfioai, I, lis, US. 

WhiU. Un. JuDs. D. 13B, IflT ; I 

< of, i. ax-»T, asi, 

■' Vltliga Cnqafiua, Tbc," I. 22, lOT. IW. 
Wilkv. Fnlnitk, rttUb of , l . SB, 97 

W«lklns-«*tA)i Bt DnlbT ud Oainail. L 13- 

7T i IT. aOB. MW, 333. as, g3»^& 
WUUBctaid. Ueu.. 1. IGL 
Waid, A. W U> ItDdT of D' In lfa< " Bbi- 

Wilhr. RffJuIil, I, <B. 

Wlllf , W. II.. I. «£. &1. 3K : li. 40. 41, 1 

101. 301. xii, s». U4, 318. an, Mt. m 

Xn, 4ia ; Mtus Uh i. STl Wt, 313, n 

ns, ». ». m, ni. B& M. ■?«. a 
m, aa, US. 4SI, iK-tS; ii. l i>,i 
I*, in. i«, iM. an, XM, ai. sbo. a 
Bs, ai. aaa, 401. 

miKn, jAtaB, D.-> dvaipUiB o( hli pa 

WHUaelon, D. C, D.'i iult> to, I. lES-ISO^ 

II. 81M18. 
VMklni, Johii.lotttnta.LS14: II. 1G1 
WatHO, Bob. Mn.. L 873 j il. 7. 41, ST, K. 

Ml IMmto. L 2n, m-W4, W. 807, 

su.aa«,HB,4B,4a0i ilslios, 
ug, UT. m. m£ 

WBllln^n. Duki of, bii townl, i.