[Sidenote: Miss Power.]
BROADSTAIRS, KENT, _Tuesday, July 14th, 1847._
MY DEAR MISS POWER,
Though I am hopeless of Rosherville until after the 28th--for am I not beckoned, by angels of charity and by local committees, to Manchester and Liverpool, and to all sorts of bedevilments (if I may be allowed the expression) in the way of managerial miseries in the meantime--here I find myself falling into parenthesis within parenthesis, like Lord Brougham--yet will I joyfully come up to London on Friday, to dine at your house and meet the Dane, whose Books I honour, and whose--to make the sentiment complete, I want something that would sound like "Bones, I love!" but I can"t get anything that unites reason with beauty. You, who have genius and beauty in your own person, will supply the gap in your kindness.
An advertis.e.m.e.nt in the newspapers mentioning the dinner-time, will be esteemed a favour.
Some wild beasts (in cages) have come down here, and involved us in a whirl of dissipation. A young lady in complete armour--at least, in something that shines very much, and is exceedingly scaley--goes into the den of ferocious lions, tigers, leopards, etc., and pretends to go to sleep upon the princ.i.p.al lion, upon which a rustic keeper, who speaks through his nose, exclaims, "Behold the abazid power of woobad!" and we all applaud tumultuously.
Seriously, she beats Van Amburgh. And I think the Duke of Wellington must have her painted by Landseer.
My penitent regards to Lady Blessington, Count D"Orsay, and my own Marchioness.
Ever, dear Miss Power, Very faithfully yours.
[Sidenote: Miss d.i.c.kens.]
BROADSTAIRS, _Wednesday, August 4th, 1847._
MY DEAREST MAMEY,
I am delighted to hear that you are going to improve in your spelling, because n.o.body can write properly without spelling well. But I know you will learn whatever you are taught, because you are always good, industrious, and attentive. That is what I always say of my Mamey.
The note you sent me this morning is a very nice one, and the spelling is beautiful.
Always, my dear Mamey, Your affectionate Papa.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready.]
DEVONSHIRE TERRACE, _Tuesday Morning, Nov. 23rd, 1847._
MY DEAR MACREADY,
I am in the whirlwind of finishing a number with a crisis in it; but I can"t fall to work without saying, in so many words, that I feel all words insufficient to tell you what I think of you after a night like last night. The mult.i.tudes of new tokens by which I know you for a great man, the swelling within me of my love for you, the pride I have in you, the majestic reflection I see in you of all the pa.s.sions and affections that make up our mystery, throw me into a strange kind of transport that has no expression but in a mute sense of an attachment, which, in truth and fervency, is worthy of its subject.
What is this to say! Nothing, G.o.d knows, and yet I cannot leave it unsaid.
Ever affectionately yours.
P.S.--I never saw you more gallant and free than in the gallant and free scenes last night. It was perfectly captivating to behold you. However, it shall not interfere with my determination to address you as Old Parr in all future time.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
EDINBURGH, _Thursday, December 13th, 1847._
MY DEAR GEORGY,
I "take up my pen," as the young ladies write, to let you know how we are getting on; and as I shall be obliged to put it down again very soon, here goes. We lived with very hospitable people in a very splendid house near Glasgow, and were perfectly comfortable. The meeting was the most stupendous thing as to numbers, and the most beautiful as to colours and decorations I ever saw. The inimitable did wonders. His grace, elegance, and eloquence, enchanted all beholders. _Kate didn"t go!_ having been taken ill on the railroad between here and Glasgow.
It has been snowing, sleeting, thawing, and freezing, sometimes by turns and sometimes all together, since the night before last. Lord Jeffrey"s household are in town here, not at Craigcrook, and jogging on in a cosy, old-fashioned, comfortable sort of way. We have some idea of going to York on Sunday, pa.s.sing that night at Alfred"s, and coming home on Monday; but of this, Kate will advise you when she writes, which she will do to-morrow, after I shall have seen the list of railway trains.
She sends her best love. She is a little poorly still, but nothing to speak of. She is frightfully anxious that her not having been to the great demonstration should be kept a secret. But I say that, like murder, it will out, and that to hope to veil such a tremendous disgrace from the general intelligence is out of the question. In one of the Glasgow papers she is elaborately described. I rather think Miss Alison, who is seventeen, was taken for her, and sat for the portrait.
Best love from both of us, to Charley, Mamey, Katey, Wally, Chickenstalker, Skittles, and the Hoshen Peck; last, and not least, to you. We talked of you at the Macreadys" party on Monday night. I hope ---- came out lively, also that ---- was truly amiable. Finally, that ---- took everybody to their carriages, and that ---- wept a good deal during the festivities? G.o.d bless you. Take care of yourself, for the sake of mankind in general.
Ever affectionately, dear Georgy.
1848.
NARRATIVE.
In March of this year Charles d.i.c.kens went with his wife for two or three weeks to Brighton, accompanied by Mrs. Macready, who was in delicate health, and we give a letter to Mr. Macready from Brighton.
Early in the year, "Dombey and Son" was finished, and he was again busy with an amateur play, with the same a.s.sociates and some new adherents; the proceeds being, at first, intended to go towards the curatorship of Shakespeare"s house, which post was to be given to Mr. Sheridan Knowles.
The endowment was abandoned, upon the town and council of Stratford-on-Avon taking charge of the house; the large sum realised by the performances being handed over to Mr. Sheridan Knowles. The play selected was "The Merry Wives of Windsor;" the farce, "Love, Law, and Physic." There were two performances at the Haymarket in April, at one of which her Majesty and the Prince Consort were present; and in July there were performances at Manchester, Liverpool, Birmingham, Edinburgh, and Glasgow. Some ladies accompanied the "strollers" on this theatrical provincial tour, and Mrs. d.i.c.kens and her sister were of the party. Many of the following letters bear reference to these plays.
In this summer, his eldest sister f.a.n.n.y (Mrs. Burnett) died, and there are sorrowful allusions to her illness in several of the letters.
The autumn months were again spent at Broadstairs, where he wrote "The Haunted Man," which was ill.u.s.trated by Mr. Frank Stone, Mr. Leech, and others. At the end of the year and at the end of his work, he took another short holiday at Brighton with his wife and sister-in-law; and the letters to Mr. Stone on the subject of his ill.u.s.trations to "The Haunted Man" are written from Brighton. The first letters which we have to Mr. Mark Lemon come here. We regret to have been unable to procure any letters addressed to Mr. Leech, with whom, as with Mr. Lemon, Charles d.i.c.kens was very intimately a.s.sociated for many years.
Also, we have the beginning of his correspondence with Mr. Charles Kent.
He wrote (an unusual thing for him to do) to the editor of _The Sun_ newspaper, begging him to thank the writer of a particularly sympathetic and earnest review of "Dombey and Son," which appeared in _The Sun_ at the close of the book. Mr. Charles Kent replied in his proper person, and from that time dates a close friendship and constant correspondence.
With the letter to Mr. Forster we give, as a note, a letter which Baron Tauchnitz published in his edition of Mr. Forster"s "Life of Oliver Goldsmith."
Mr. Peter Cunningham, as an important member of the "Shakespeare"s House" committee, managed the _un_-theatrical part of this Amateur Provincial Tour, and was always pleasantly connected with the plays.
The book alluded to in the last letter for this year, to be dedicated to Charles d.i.c.kens"s daughters by Mr. Mark Lemon, was called "The Enchanted Doll."
[Sidenote: Mr. Charles Babbage.]
DEVONSHIRE TERRACE, _February 26th, 1848._
MY DEAR SIR,
Pray let me thank you for your pamphlet.
I confess that I am one of the unconvinced grumblers, and that I doubt the present or future existence of any government in England, strong enough to convert the people to your income-tax principles. But I do not the less appreciate the ability with which you advocate them, nor am I the less gratified by any mark of your remembrance.