Charles Lever, His Life in His Letters.
Vol. II.
by Edmund Downey and Charles James Lever.
XIV. FLORENCE AND SPEZZIA 1864
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Jan_. 2,1863 [? 1864].
"I am not sure--so much has your criticism on "Tony" weighed with me, and so far have I welded his fortunes by your counsel--that you"ll not have to own it one of these days as your own, and write "T. B. by J.
B." in the t.i.tle. In sober English, I am greatly obliged for all the interest you take in the story,--an interest which I insist on believing includes me fully as much as the Magazine. For this reason it is that I now send you another instalment, so that if change or suppression be needed, there will be ample time for either.
"Whenever Lytton says anything of the story let me have it. Though his counsels are often above me, they are always valuable. You will have received O"D. before this, and if you like it, I suppose the proof will be on the way to me. As to the present envoy of "Tony," if you think that an additional chapter would be of advantage to the part for March, take chapters xxv. and xxvi. too if you wish, for I now feel getting up to my work again, though the ague still keeps its hold on me and makes my alternate days very shaky ones.
"I am sorry to say that, grim as I look in marble, I am more stern and more worn in the flesh. I thought a few days ago that it was nearly up, and I wrote my epitaph--
"For fifty odd years I lived in the thick of it, And now I lie here heartily sick of it.
"Poor Thackeray! I cannot say how I was shocked at his death. He wrote his "Irish Sketch-Book," which he dedicated to me, in my old house at Templeogue, and it is with a heavy heart I think of all our long evenings together,--mingling our plans for the future with many a jest and many a story.
"He was fortunate, however, to go down in the full blaze of his genius--as so few do. The fate of most is to go on pouring water on the lees, that people at last come to suspect they never got honest liquor from the tap at all.
"I got a strange proposal t"other day from America, from The New York Inst.i.tute, to go out and give lectures or readings there. As regards money it was flattering enough, but putting aside all questions as to my ability to do what I have never tried, there is in America an Irish element that would certainly a.s.sail me, and so I said "No." The _possibility_ of doing the thing somewhere has now occurred to me. Would they listen to me in Edinburgh, think you? I own to you frankly I don"t like the thought,--it is not in any way congenial to ma _Ma che volete?_ I"d do it, as I wear a shabby coat and drink a small claret, though I"d like broadcloth and Bordeaux as well as my neighbours. Give me your opinion on this. I have not spoken of it to any others.
"My very best wishes for you and all yours in the year to come."
_To Mr William Blackwood_.
"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Jan_. 11, 1864.
"I thank you sincerely for your kind note, and all the hopeful things you say of T. B. I am not in the least ashamed to say how easily elated I feel by encouragement of this sort, any more than I am to own how greatly benefited I have been by your uncle"s criticisms.
"I also send O"D. The next thing I mean to do after I return from Spezzia, where I go to-day, will be a short O"D. for March, and by that time I think it not improbable we shall be in the midst of great events here to record.
"Tell your uncle to cut out my Scotch _ad lib_. All my recollections of the dialect date from nigh thirty years ago in the N. of Ireland.
"Believe me with what pleasure I make your acquaintance, and with every good wish of the good season," &c.
_To Mr John Blackwood_.
"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Jan_. 22.
"I was right glad to get your letter, and gladder to find the "Tony" No.
7 pleased you. You know so much of that strange beast the public, which for so many a year I have only known by report, that when you tell me the thing will do I gain fresh courage; and what between real calamities and the small rubs of life administered to me of late years in a severer shape than I ever felt before, I do need courage.
"Most men who had written so long and so much as I have done would have become thick-hided, but if I am so, it is only to attack--aggressive attack. To anything like reproof, remonstrance, or appeal, I am more open than I ever was in my earlier days, not merely because with greater knowledge of my own shortcomings I feel how much I need it, but that the amount of interest it implies, the sympathy for which it vouches, warms my heart, and gives me renewed vigour and the wish and the hope to do better.
"Now I only inflict all this egotism upon you the better to thank you for your kind counsels; in fact, I am disclosing the depth of my wound to show my grat.i.tude to my doctor who is curing it.
"Proof has not yet reached me, and I therefore cannot justify, by any plausibility in the context, how the night was so fine for Alice and the morning so severe for Tony.*
* Mr Blackwood had written: "Observe that in the garden scene you make it a fine night, and from the morning showing before they separated, apparently the night was short; whereas when Tony started in the cold and snow for Burnside it was clearly winter."
"You are right. I feel it more strongly since you said it that Tony has a long way to go. Hope he is worthy of Alice; but is he in this respect any worse than his neighbours? I don"t believe any man was worth the woman that inspired a real pa.s.sion, and he only became approximately so by dint of loving her. And so if T. B. does ever turn out a good fellow it is Alice has done it, and not yours very faithfully.
"My thanks for your cheque, which came all safe. I thought O"D. had better be anecdotic and gossipy at _first_, but when I send you the batch (which I will in a day or two), tell me if something more didactic ought to come into preachment."
_To Mr John Blackwood_
"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Jan_. 22, 1864.
"I send you herewith a piece of O"Dowderie, and if it be too light--I don"t suspect that"s its fault--I"ll weight it; and if it be too doughy, I"ll put more barm in it; and, last of all, if you don"t like it, I"ll burn it.
"What in the name of all good manners does Lord Russell mean by writing impertinences to all Europe? He is like an old Irish beggar well known in Dublin who sat in a bowl and kicked all round him. As to fighting for the Danes, it is sheer nonsense. They haven"t a fragment of a case, and we should not enjoy Mr Pickwick"s poor.... consolation of shouting with the largest mob.
"The Italians are less warlike than a month ago. The "Men of Action"--as the party call themselves who write in the newspapers but never take the field--declare that they are only waiting for the signal of "Kossuth"
from Hungary; but the fate of the Poles--who _do_ fight and are brave soldiers--is a terrible _a fortiori_ lesson to these people here, and I suspect they are imbibing it.
"I got a long letter yesterday from Lord Malmesbury and the criticism of Kinglake"s history. Why they don"t like it I cannot imagine. I believe he has. .h.i.t the exact measure of the Emperor"s capacity, courage, and character altogether, and I go with him in everything."
_To Dr Burbidge._
"Florence, _Feb_. 11, 1864.
"It seems to be leaking out that both Pam and Russell have been what the sporting men call "squared" by the Queen, who would not hear of a war with Germany. The Court plays very often a more prominent part in foreign politics than the nation wots of, and certainly the Prince during the Crimean war maintained close correspondence with persons in the confidence of the R. Emperor,--not treasonably, of course, but in such a way as to require great watchfulness on the part of our Ministers. This I know. There is, in fact, the game of kings as well as of nations, and the issue not always identical.
"Our glorious weather has come back, though we hear it has been severe along the coast, and snow has actually fallen in some places.
"To-day I am to have a consultation about my wife with an Edinburgh professor of note who is pa.s.sing through to Rome. The opportunity was not to be lost, though the bare proposal has made her very nervous.
"My proofs--my proofs--are lost! gone Heaven knows where!--and here I sit lamenting, and certainly doing nothing else. I cannot take up the end of an unknown thread, and if I did go on, it would be to make Luttrell in love with Dolly Stuart.
"Only fancy my sitting for nigh an hour last night where a man [?
retailed] the story of "T. Butler," which he had been reading in "Blackwood"!"