Charles Lever, His Life in His Letters Volume I Part 36

"They who speak of religious consolation in great calamity often forget that these consolations only appeal to those whose lives have been invariably directed by a religious standard, and that worldly-minded men like myself can no more obtain the benefit of these remedies than they could of any internal medicament which required a course of long persistence. I say this to show that while not insensible to the truthfulness of these counsels, yet that personally they do not apply.

"It is now left me to labour on with broken spirits and a faded heart.

To try and cheat the weariness of others I must strain head and nerves, and stifle true feeling to portray its mockery.

"I suppose I only re-echo what thousands have said, that I wish from my heart the race was run, and that I could lie down beside my poor Charley."

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Oct_. 20, 1863.

"It was very neglectful of me not to acknowledge your cheque. It was the more so, since I had not any other money in my possession.

"My wife is a little better. She thanks you deeply and gratefully for your words of kindness and sympathy to us both.

"I have not been able to work yet, but in a day or two I'll try. The poor fisherman in 'The Antiquary' cobbled at the boat of his drowned son the day after,--but it's harder to task the head when the heart is so heavy.

"It is very kind of you to tell me good tidings of my story. Believe me, I am far more anxious for you than for myself."

_To Dr Burbidge._

"Wednesday, _Oct_. 21,1863.

"I only send you so much of my proof as will make the eighth part in publication (_la suite en prochain numero_). I detained it to make certain corrections, by which you will see I am less an a.s.s than a first reading might have persuaded you to believe.

"Blackwood writes to me very favourably; he holds much to the secrecy as to the authorship, and has not even told Aytoun, his most intimate friend.

"With all the _bonne volonte_ in the world, I cannot work. I can no more do it than I could walk with a broken leg. It is not that the thing is difficult, it is impossible.

"I am right well pleased with our success at Church matters--that is, that we have done all that so narrow an atmosphere admits of, and will conquer fresh worlds when they are discovered.

"Are there any English ships in the Gulf? or is there anything consular asked for or wished for?"

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Nov_. 7, 1863.

"'Tony' looks better in Magazine than in proof. I hope your readers like it, and sincerely more on your account than on my own.

"I write now to ask would you like a paper on Turkey, on which Bulwer has been cramming me, but of which _I myself_ know nothing? First of all, are you Turk or anti-Turk in Magazine? for B. is outrageously Moslem, and, of course, so will be his article.

"From what I hear from him, the subject might be treated popularly and readably.

"What clever papers those are in this month's Magazine, Hawthorne and the Americans! They are wonderfully well written, and I am amazed at the good temper of the first, for the theme was a very strong temptation for sharp reprisals.

"Up to this I have done nothing. I have a very aguish headache that takes me on alternate days, and for which I am ordered change of air, which, of course, in my wife's present state of health, is impossible. I am very peevish and dissatisfied at my forced idleness; but I suspect if I were to write in my present mood you would be even less pleased with my industry."

_To Dr Burbidge._

"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Nov_. 11, 1863.

"If the grapes are sour here, it is simply because the fox is too lazy to stand on his hind legs and take them.

"Pendleton goes positively on the 17th--so he says. There is no one, nor can there be any one, here to take his place in permanence. If really, then, you do not actually prefer the hard peas of Spezzia, there is a reasonable chance of success by a little effort. Just in the same ratio that I have always bedevilled my own fortunes, I have a certain luck when I deal with those of others; so if you care to make a move here, say so now, or hold your peace during all next summer.

"I was told yesterday--by so great a swell that he was almost unintelligible, and so high and mighty as not to bear being conquered of by me--that there was a lady now here who was the wife of a gentleman who once was H. M. of Rugby before Arnold, and who, hearing of your vicinity, expressed a lively desire to see you here as chaplain. You would doubtless know who she is, and if she be a valuable const.i.tuent.

At all events, think of the thing, and _think fast_.

"Sir Bulwer Lytton is graciously pleased to be pleased with 'Tony,' and condescends to ask Blackwood, Who writes it? Some compensation this, for a friend now here told me he turned it over, but though it wasn't positively _bad_, it was not 'tempting.' Happily it takes all sorts of folk to make a public--as well as a world.

"I believe Julia sent you down a book of mine this morning. If 'The Times' does not reach regularly, it is because it misses here at least every second day.

"Write to me. Tell me that you are well and the Hotel d'Odessa empty, that the climate agrees with Mrs Burbidge, and that Ba.s.setti has the ague."

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Casa Capponi, Florence, _November_.

"Do not cut down T. B.,--it would certainly damage him, and I'll not fail you, so far at least as time is concerned. What you tell me of the opinions of him cheers me much.

"I wrote you a line about Turkey, and now it seems to be that a droll series of short papers might be well devised--Mr Kenny Dodd upon 'Men and Things in General,'--a light [survey] taken from an Irish point of view, and consequently as often _wrong_ as right. Next year will be a stirring one here--that is, over the Continent, and afford plenty of pa.s.sing events when one wanted them.

"I wonder Bulwer Lytton did not guess me, and I wonder even more that he liked T. B.; but I am well pleased all the same.

"So you are coming round to M'Caskey. I half thought you would, and said little in his defence. It certainly is not easy for any one not 'bog-born' to understand that composite animal which Ireland produces, and has so much of the gentleman through a regularly demoralised scampish nature: the _point d'honneur_ preserved after honour itself was gone, and the tradition of being respectable maintained after years of a sponging-house and the police-courts. Believe me, I know full fifty M'Caskeys, and one of them became a Chief Justice, though I don't mean mine to end that way.

"My very warmest thanks for yours and Mrs Blackwood's inquiries about my wife. She is a little better,--at least she says so, and that is something,--and she was very grateful about your interest for her."

_To Dr Burbidge._

"Casa Capponi, Florence, _Nov_. 1863.

"I like the notion you suggest of my cancelling. Did you ever see an Irishman throw out a pint of his chalk mixture because he saw a bluebottle in the measure? Or, rather, didn't he daintily pick out the beastie, aye, if it was a c.o.c.kroach, with finger and thumb, and serve his customer? I tell you I couldn't afford to be careful. I'm not rich enough, to write creditably,--_e poi?_ I never could bring myself yet, nor do I hope to arrive at the point hereafter, to respect my Public; and I often hug myself, in the not very profitable consolation, that they never thought meaner of me nor do I of them. I _know_ that the very worst things I ever did were instant successes, and some one or two--as 'The Dodds,' for instance, which had a certain stamp of originality--were total and lamentable failures. Now, mind, I do not say this in any spirit of misanthropic invective. I do not want, like poor Haydn, to slang the world that refuses to appreciate me--and, for this reason, that they have taken carrion from me and eaten it for good wholesome ox beef; but I say that for such consumers the trouble of selection is clean thrown away, and I feel that if I were to write for Fame, I might finish my book in the Fleet.

"My wife is certainly better; the change is not so great as to alter her habits of rest and seclusion, but she is better, and looks better. Ju and Syd well, and, like all of us, very much yours.

"Your notes are a great pleasure, and I think the postman a scoundrel when he doesn't bring one."