(in two not long parts). It is by Collins, and I think possesses great merit and real pathos.
Being in town the other day, I saw Gye by accident, and told him, when he praised ---- to me, that she was a very bad actress. "Well!" said he, "_you_ may say anything, but if anybody else had told me that I should have stared." Nevertheless, I derived an impression from his manner that she had not been a profitable speculation in respect of money. That very same day Stanfield and I dined alone together at the Garrick, and drank your health. We had had a ride by the river before dinner (of course he _would_ go and look at boats), and had been talking of you. It was this day week, by-the-bye.
I know of nothing of public interest that is new in France, except that I am changing my moustache into a beard. We all send our most tender loves to dearest Miss Macready and all the house. The Hammy boy is particularly anxious to have his love sent to "Misr Creedy."
Ever, my dearest Macready, Most affectionately yours.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. Wilkie Collins.]
VILLA DES MOULINEAUX, BOULOGNE, _Sunday, July 13th, 1856._
MY DEAR COLLINS,
We are all sorry that you are not coming until the middle of next month, but we hope that you will then be able to remain, so that we may all come back together about the 10th of October. I think (recreation allowed, etc.), that the play will take that time to write. The ladies of the _dram. pers._ are frightfully anxious to get it under way, and to see you locked up in the pavilion; apropos of which n.o.ble edifice I have omitted to mention that it is made a more secluded retreat than it used to be, and is greatly improved by the position of the door being changed. It is as snug and as pleasant as possible; and the Genius of Order has made a few little improvements about the house (at the rate of about tenpence apiece), which the Genius of Disorder will, it is hoped, appreciate.
I think I must come over for a small spree, and to fetch you. Suppose I were to come on the 9th or 10th of August to stay three or four days in town, would that do for you? Let me know at the end of this month.
I cannot tell you what a high opinion I have of Anne Rodway. I took "Extracts" out of the t.i.tle because it conveyed to the many-headed an idea of incompleteness--of something unfinished--and is likely to stall some readers off. I read the first part at the office with strong admiration, and read the second on the railway coming back here, being in town just after you had started on your cruise. My behaviour before my fellow-pa.s.sengers was weak in the extreme, for I cried as much as you could possibly desire. Apart from the genuine force and beauty of the little narrative, and the admirable personation of the girl"s ident.i.ty and point of view, it is done with an amount of honest pains and devotion to the work which few men have better reason to appreciate than I, and which no man can have a more profound respect for. I think it excellent, feel a personal pride and pleasure in it which is a delightful sensation, and know no one else who could have done it.
Of myself I have only to report that I have been hard at it with "Little Dorrit," and am now doing No. 10. This last week I sketched out the notion, characters, and progress of the farce, and sent it off to Mark, who has been ill of an ague. It ought to be very funny. The cat business is too ludicrous to be treated of in so small a sheet of paper, so I must describe it _viva voce_ when I come to town. French has been so insufferably conceited since he shot tigerish cat No. 1 (intent on the n.o.ble d.i.c.k, with green eyes three inches in advance of her head), that I am afraid I shall have to part with him. All the boys likewise (in new clothes and ready for church) are at this instant p.r.o.ne on their stomachs behind bushes, whooshing and crying (after tigerish cat No. 2): "French!" "Here she comes!" "There she goes!" etc. I dare not put my head out of window for fear of being shot (it is as like a _coup d"etat_ as possible), and tradesmen coming up the avenue cry plaintively: "_Ne tirez pas, Monsieur Fleench; c"est moi--boulanger. Ne tirez pas, 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 to write.
Tell Piggot, when you see him, that we shall all be much pleased if he will come at his own convenience while you are here, and stay a few days with us.
I shall have more than one notion of future work to suggest to you while we are beguiling the dreariness of an arctic winter in these parts. May they prosper!
Kind regards from all to the Dramatic Poet of the establishment, and to the D. P."s mother and brother.
Ever yours.
P.S.--If the "Flying Dutchman" should be done again, pray do go and see it. Webster expressed his opinion to me that it was "a neat piece." I implore you to go and see a neat piece.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. H. Wills.]
BOULOGNE, _Thursday, August 7th, 1856._
MY DEAR WILLS,
I do not feel disposed to record those two Chancery cases; firstly, because I would rather have no part in engendering in the mind of any human creature, a hopeful confidence in that den of iniquity.
And secondly, because it seems to me that the real philosophy of the facts is altogether missed in the narrative. The wrong which chanced to be set right in these two cases was done, as all such wrong is, mainly because these wicked courts of equity, with all their means of evasion and postponement, give scoundrels confidence in cheating. If justice were cheap, sure, and speedy, few such things could be. It is because it has become (through the vile dealing of those courts and the vermin they have called into existence) a positive precept of experience that a 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 speculations 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 testimony to its having rendered justice in two such plain matters, I have no debt of the kind upon my conscience.
In haste, ever faithfully.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready.]
BOULOGNE, _Friday, August 8th, 1856._
MY DEAREST MACREADY,
I like the second little poem very much indeed, and think (as you do) that it is a great advance upon the first. Please to note that I make it a rule to pay for everything that is inserted in "Household Words,"
holding it to be a part of my trust to make my fellow-proprietors understand that they have no right to unrequited labour. Therefore, when Wills (who has been ill and is gone for a holiday) does his invariable spiriting gently, don"t make Katey"s case different from Adelaide Procter"s.
I am afraid there is no possibility of my reading Dorsetshirewards. I have made many conditional promises thus: "I am very much occupied; but if I read at all, I will read for your inst.i.tution in such an order on my list." Edinburgh, which is No. 1, I have been obliged to put as far off as next Christmas twelvemonth. Bristol stands next. The working men at Preston come next. And so, if I were to go out of the record and read for your people, I should bring such a house about my ears as would shake "Little Dorrit" out of my head.
Being in town last Sat.u.r.day, I went to see Robson in a burlesque of "Medea." It is an odd but perfectly true testimony to the extraordinary power of his performance (which is of a very remarkable kind indeed), that it points the badness of ----"s acting in a most singular manner, by bringing out what she might do and does not. The scene with Jason is perfectly terrific; and the manner in which the comic rage and jealousy does not pitch itself over the floor at the stalls is in striking contrast to the manner in which the tragic rage and jealousy does. He has a frantic song and dagger dance, about ten minutes long altogether, which has more pa.s.sion in it than ---- could express in fifty years.
We all unite in kindest love to Miss Macready and all your dear ones; not forgetting my G.o.dson, to whom I send his G.o.dfather"s particular love twice over. The Hammy boy is so brown that you would scarcely know him.
Ever, my dear Macready, affectionately yours.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. H. Wills.]
TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _Sunday Morning, Sept. 28th, 1856._
MY DEAR WILLS,
I suddenly remember this morning that in Mr. Curtis"s article, "Health and Education," I left a line which must come out. It is in effect that the want of healthy training leaves girls in a fit state to be the subjects of mesmerism. I would not on any condition hurt Elliotson"s feelings (as I should deeply) by leaving that depreciatory kind of reference in any page of H. W. He has suffered quite enough without a stab from a friend. So pray, whatever the inconvenience may be in what Bradbury calls "the Friars," take that pa.s.sage out. By some extraordinary accident, after observing it, I forgot to do it.
Ever faithfully.
[Sidenote: Miss d.i.c.kens.]
TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _Sat.u.r.day, Oct. 4th, 1856._
MY DEAR MAMEY,
The preparations for the play are already beginning, and it is christened (this is a great dramatic secret, which I suppose you know already) "The Frozen Deep."
Tell Katey, with my best love, that if she fail to come back six times as red, hungry, and strong as she was when she went away, I shall give her part to somebody else.
We shall all be very glad 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 affectionate Father.
[Sidenote: The Hon. Mrs. Watson.]
Tavistock House, _Tuesday, Oct. 7th, 1856._