* This was not the portrait prefixed to ‘Jack Hinton,’ but avignette finally condemned.—E. D.
“I have not the most remote idea of the conclusion, and have lately been adding more to my family than to ‘Harry,’—a little annual in the shape of a daughter being presented to me yesterday. Would you kindly put the announcement for me in the Irish papers?—‘Born on the 28th of the month, at Brussels,’ &c. Of my new and most original work, more hereafter. Meanwhile, see if Butt does not owe something for my contributions to Mag., and if so, send it, and anything for my late MSS., to Spencer, who asks for money in lieu of sending it,—a species of transfusion of my pecuniary blood which my constitution cannot bear. I have just been walked into here by a swindler to the amount of £145—money borrowed on security. This is a confoundedly heavy loss, and has ruffled my temper, and possibly affected my naturally legible handwriting.
“I have some very brilliant ideas of my new book, which you shall soon hear of.
“Send me something light to review.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussels,Sept. 13,1839.
“Since my return I have been working very hard—not medically, for town is empty, but scribbling....
“I am in great hopes to have something like a half medical tome on the stocks for spring. I was talking about it to Bradie and Chambers in London, and they strongly advised it—for money’s sake less than the popularity such things secure.”
To Mr James M’Glashan.
“Sept. 20,1839.
“I sent you a week since two chaps.—xliii. and xliv.—of ‘Harry Lorrequer.’ God grant they have reached you, for I never can rewrite, and if lost, they break the chains, if there be any, in the narrative. I am told of a handsome notice of ‘Harry’ in the ‘Naval and Military Gazette.’ Look at it. How goes on the sale of No. 7? Tell me, and let me have a proof of No. 9 soon, and as much of No. 10 as you can get together. I see my way thus much more clearly. I wish you would suggest scenes to Browne; his choice latterly is not over happy. But above all, my wife and daughters are still poorly, and I am so unhinged and upset by these causes and not being well myself, that I am below the mark as regards writing. I trust, however, that this is not to continue, and look forward to being once moreen route.”
To Mr James M’Glashan.
“Oct. 7[?1839].
“Your letter came to hand exactly as I had despatched my own lament for the lost ‘Lorrequer,’ and had actually set about writing another conclusion for No. 9, which I have since, of course, burnt,—not but I have some misgivings that it was the best of the two. We must soon pull up, and marry our man. I’ll do for you a review of the son’s ‘Life of Grattan,’ but it must be a profound secret. I think Lorrequer’s portrait, if done at all, had better be appended as a vignette to the book,—mounted on the cob, as I mentioned. How to manage it is, however, difficult. A German translation of ‘Harry’ is announced in the Leipzig catalogue. It must have beenraytherthorny work for the translator. Meanwhile—proof! proof! and a long letter, I beseech of you. I am idle, and likely to be so, if not stimulated by hearing from you. It is only the occasional prod of the spur that even makes me move.”
To Mr James M’Glashan.
“Oct. 18, 1839.
“In the hope of forcing you to reply, I have been pouring in a shower of small shot these last three or four days, and I now send another missile in the shape of a new chapter of ‘Harry.’ For Heaven’s sake write to me, and let me see the proof of No 10, for in about ten days my season commences here, and then blue pills and rhubarb will eject all that appertains to our friend Hal.”
To Mr James M’Glashan.
“Oct. 22, 1889.
“Herewith goes a slating of ‘Physic and Physicians’ for our December number, of which let me have a proof—that is, if ever you intend writing to me again.
“Write soon—write soon.
“What would you think of a book called ‘The Irish, by Themselves’? Something like ‘Les Français’—to be done by several hands,—Otway, Carleton, &c.? Of all countries it presents most facility for this kind of thing, and might ‘take’ prodigiously.”
To Mr James M’Glashan.
“Brussels,Nov. 1, 1839.
“I have thought so much over the idea of ‘The Irish’ that I send you a list of subjects conveying my idea of the thing which would, I am sure, beat ‘Lorrequer’ to sticks. Could I talk the matter over with you I could better explain my thoughts, but ‘The French’ will sufficiently convey the shape, style, and intention of the publication. Write me your full opinion on this matter, but do not mention it except to some well-judging friend till we think more about it. The illustrations should be of the most graphic kind, and the descriptive part as narrative and touchy as possible. I am so full of it that I can think of nothing else.
“List of subjects for ‘The Irish, Painted by Themselves’: The Irish Artist (only think of Sharpe!), The Country Dancing Master, The Medical Student, The Irish Fellow, T.C.D., The Irish Widow, The Irish Author, The Common Council Man, The Auctioneer, The Irish Beggar, The Irish Lawyer, The Priest, The Boarding-House Keeper, The Hedge Schoolmaster, The Doctor, The Sporting Gentleman, Country Attorney, Popular Preacher, The Hackney-car Man, The Dublin Dandy, The Favourite Actor, The Dublin Belle.”
To Mr James M’Glashan.
“Nov. 12, 1839.
“I sincerely hope that long ere this your withers have been unwrung, and that my friend, Dr Graves, has restored you to the rank of a biped. God forgive you! what a dreadful thing it might have been to die with such a sin on your soul, for sending me the two last proofs. When did you hear that I was reading Job? They are, indeed, awful: the No. 9 has several blunders, and I am resolved to make the public look to you and yours for them in the preface. See to No. 10 with all the accuracy possible, for in the Mag. it is perfectly unintelligible. (Colonel) Addison has reviewed that splendid book ‘Africa,’ and you can insert it as a notice. You ask for No. 11. But No. 11 is not begun!! Nor how it is to be do I yet know. The whole is to be dedicated to His Excellency, Sir H. Seymour, Minister Plenipotentiary, &c. I have been, for domestic causes, unable to write or read, and scarcely had any time to eat these ten days. Now, however,———
“Don’t refer to me as the writer except among your friends.”
To Mr James M’Glashan.
“Brussels,Nov. 1838.
“My intention as regards my new book is to continue ‘A Tour on the Continent’ with articles originally written in the D. L. G., entitled ‘The Log-Book of a Rambler,’ taking the Rhine for a starting-point, thence diverging to the fashionable watering-places into Germany, the universities, galleries, &c., giving sketchy and anecdotic descriptions of new places and things as I pass; thence to Dresden, Vienna, Prague, Munich, Paris, Brussels, &c., illustrating each trait of foreign manner by an essay or tale as it strikes me, all as much in the slap-dash style of ‘Lorrequer’ as to bear his name, and be called, if you approve of it, ‘Harry Lorrequer’s Log; or, A Six Months’ Leave.’ This I intend to be mygrand ouvrage, and esteem it a dead bargain at £300, which you must give me first. I purpose that you will not be a loser by me, and will make it all that my poor talents can do. In this proposal I hesitate not to say that I am certain that I am not overrating what I can fairly look for. I am very much fatigued and overworked just now, and being pressed besides, can only add that I am ever yours truly.”
To Mr James M’Glashan.
“Nov. 29, 1839.
“Since I last wrote I have had four applications from Bentley, Colburn, Lardner, &c., to write something in the style of ‘Harry Lorrequer,’ but longer and more pathetic. They order a book, as they would their breeches. This speaks well for the success of ‘Lorrequer.’ I wonder that any of these great men knew the whereabouts of so humble a man as Charles Lever.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussels,Nov. 29,1839.
“I write in great haste to ask of you to explain away a blunder I have just been guilty of. I have received an offer from Bentley to write a new work to be called ‘The Irish Dragoon,’ in the ‘Lorrequer’façon. The plan appeared to me, the more I reflected upon it, one promising success, and I this morning wrote to M’Glashan explaining how I stood, and told him that for auld langsyne, &c, I wished he might be the publisher if the thing was likely to be profitable,—mentioning that about £40 per No. of the ‘Lorrequer’ size would be ‘the chalk.’ Now I made a miscalculation, for I find that Bentley’s terms would be equal to £50 a No.; and although I should like to do the civil thing by M’G., yet I am too poor a man to do it at this price. Tell him all this, and say besides that I by no means put it upon him to deal at all—that I merely would say this: You know how ‘Lorrequer’ has or has not told with the publics—your present experience enables you to say whether you can, with a reasonable chance of sufficient profit give this sum or not—and your answer can be yea or nay at once. My wish is—consistently with what I owe to me and mine—to serve him.”
To Mr James M’Glashan.
“Dec. 11, 1839.
“Without wasting either your time or my own by expressing surprise at the tone of your last letter, I shall as clearly as possible reply to its contents. First—I sent from this, four days previous to the despatch of the preface and dedication of ‘Lorrequer,’ the whole of No. 11, minus such pages as I intended to add to the proof, and which I hoped to do with more effect by that time. I therefore wound up the story with such small abilities as I possess, neither huddling the catastrophe, as you are pleased to imply, nor in any manner injuring the success of a work in which, I would humbly think, my interest is scarcely inferior to your own. As I am very far from wishing any hasty expression to escape me, I shall not allude to the paragraph of your letter concerning the moneyed advantages you speak of for a different termination, but proceed to clause 2. I am not willing to extend the work to 15 numbers. My reasons shall be quite at your service if you care for them.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussles,Dec18, 1839.
“The post which brought your letter conveyed also one from M’Glashan in a very angry tone, half implying that my new book was withdrawing my interest in ‘Lorrequer,’ and evidently savage that I was getting at the London market. I answered sharply to each section of the epistle, expressed my sorrow for offering him what suited Bentley to take, and assured him that my credit as author,tant peu qu’il sait, was quite as dear to me as his pence as bookseller could ever be to him. Result a most handsome and apologetic letter from him ascribing his petulance to ill health, and accepting my new book at £50 per No.—the whole to run to 12 to 20 Nos.—i.e., £600 to £1000. Not bad after all, and better than more solid productions, which pay little and are read less.
“Will you then see M’G., to whom I have written accepting his money for ‘The Dragoon,’ and add, what I have not, that I was, on the arrival of his letter, actually concluding one to Bentley in acceptance of his offer for the MS., but that asgage d’amitiebetween us, I have stood by him and rejected the illustrious Dick. This from you will conclude the pacific relations so eminently necessary between the fiery and tiger natures of author and publisher, whose business is not ‘to die,’ but to squabble everlastingly.
“The lost MS. of ‘Lorrequer’ is, it seems, come to hand, but not before I rewrote or rather wrote another finale. This cost me four sleepless nights and a fit of gout from chagrin and champagne, necessary to bring me up to the scribbling paroxysm.
“What my new book is to run upon I have not as yet the least notion, but trust to chance and after dinner—for invention; and last, not least, to the moneyed stimulus—for material....
“I have been exceedingly gay—dining at the Embassy and elsewhere, and thinking of everything save book-making. However, as I have not ten pounds in the house, and owe about a hundred, I must haul my wind and bear up in time.
“On second thoughts it will be right for M’Glashan not to advertise ‘The Dragoon’ by title in the last number of ‘Lorrequer,’—only ‘a new work by Harry Lorrequer.’ This, as regards my previous negotiations with Bentley, is necessary.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussels,Christmas Day, 1839.
“I wish with all my heart that we (meaning John* among the number) could eat our plum-pudding together. If that day ever arrives, God knows. It is strange enough how few—very few—early friends can be found within the ring-fence of a Xmas fire when the pursuits of after-life have laid hold on them. We three are a striking instance of it....
* His brother, the Rev. John Lever.—E. D.
“I meditate a trip to Ireland about April....
“Doctoring here is at zero, the whole world of English travellers having flocked southwards. Though the printing-press stands to me, the physic bottle does not. Since August last, when I returned home, I have not received £50, and have spent £350. The ‘Dragoon’ must fight me through this.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussels,Jan, 10, 1840.
“The new Postage Act will be a sorer blow to you than even to her Majesty’s Exchequer—but from very opposite causes. As I learn it comes into operation on the 12th, I start for the post with it.
“All kinds of misfortunes and delays have befallen my unlucky MSS. of late, and whether the public is ever to see the end of ‘Harry Lorrequer’ is more than I can tell. But whatever the faults of the F. O. be, M’Glashan’s agent in London has also his share in the calamity, being the stupidestgauchethat ever existed.
“Although I wrote to P. S. about John’s baptismal certificate, I have not yet received reply. At the moment I am too hard up to spare a sou, and must ask you to send me the £15 or £20 you speak of with the proceeds of my last two articles in the D. U. I mean the two reviews in Nov. and Dec., and if Butt be in my debt,—as I believe,—perhaps M’Glashan would see to it for me. I have above £150 to pay here at this confounded season, and something like that number of pence to meet it with.
“Will you also ask M’G. what times of payment will be arranged for ‘The Dragoon,’ as although I leave the thing to his convenience, it will suit mine much to have some definite knowledge on the subject.
“I have thrown physic to the dogs, for really there is nothing to do. I think,entre nous, I must go farther—perhaps to Florence or Naples.
“I have dedicated ‘Lorrequer’ to Sir H. Seymour, by his special request, which at the same time interferes with my original wish and determination to inscribe it to Lord Douro, who [? half] expects it.
“Since I wrote last I have been laid up with gout in my wrist and knuckles and both feet, and now can only walk with cloth shoes and a stick.... The ‘Irish Dragoon’ has been shelved these twelve days.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
Jan. 17, 1840.
“A most absurd blunder has induced a certain Charles O’Malley, Esq., barrister-at-law, and leader of the Western Circuit, to suppose that my new book under that name is meant to be his Life, &c. And the consequence is that a meeting of the Bar has taken place at Litton’s, and resolutions entered to compel a change of title.
“Now as I never heard of this gentleman, nor with a very widespread acquaintance do I know of one single Mr O’Malley, I have refused point-blank. My book is already advertised in all the London papers, and if I changed the name for another, any individual bearing the newly-adopted one would have—what Mr O’Malley has not—just and sufficient ground of quarrel with me.
“All my friends here—military, diplomatic, and literary—agree in this view, Lord Lennox, Ranelagh, Suffield, &c, saying that it would be a very weak thing indeed to yield, and one which would undoubtedly reflect both upon my courage and judgment.
“I write these few hurried lines to put youen courantto what is going on....
“For God’s sake send me some gilt. I am terribly hard up just now.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussels,Jan. 30,1840.
“I am in the greatest anxiety to hear from M’Glashan, as a MS.—the first of ‘O’Malley’—has not yet been acknowledged by him, and if lost will cause me serious inconvenience,—for I never have a copy of a MS.
“What you observe about the change of name is very just, but the demand, not request, made a very great difference in the matter. Besides that, a book once advertised as it was in all the London papers is seriously injured by any change of title,—such is at least the view of the trade.
“I am working away,malgrégout and dyspepsia, but by no means satisfied with my labours or sanguine about their success. So long as I had done nothing I felt indifferent on this head, but the unmerited success of ‘Lorrequer’ has stimulated me to do better, and it appears likely that I may do worse—for such I feel at present. Time will tell. Meanwhile I go on,—for needs must when somebody is the coachman.
“If you could discover any source of story or anecdote for me, the service would be inestimable. Droll, comic, ludicrous situations I covet; I have latterly become as grave as a hermit, trying to invent fun.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Quartier Leopold, Brussels, Dec. 20, 1840.
“You will be sorry to learn that Wright’s failure has let me in for a loss which, however small, is something to one still smoked. His correspondent here, a Mr Berry (?) King, took the opportunity of failing offered by the great man’s break up, and failed accordingly. He was my banker, which doubtless was another predisposing cause for a mishap. You may remember how a very small credit I once opened with the bank in Coleraine made them close in a week. However, as some one remarked with much good nature, ‘It’s only another book,’—and so I feel it. Meanwhile I am very hard up, as this is the season of yearly accounts being sent in. With Curry I am in advance, for unluckily, to oblige this confounded Berry King, I gave him my booksellers’ bills when drawn—which he has since appropriated.
“Forgive me, my dear friend, all this long story of worry and annoyance, which, now that I have told it, has relieved my mind considerably.
“But, after all, I have found it a hard task and sore test of my courage for the last five weeks to go on daily bolting the egotism, selfishness, and sordid meanness of my sick world, and at night writing till one or two or three o’clock every imaginable kind of nonsense, with a heavy heart and an aching head—for means, ay, for means,—only to continue the same dull drudgery somewhat longer. This is a confession only for a very dear friend....
“My loss with the rascal is about £280—but it is all lost, for however Wright may come round my friend is most genteely cleared out.
“I have written a squib for the D. U. M.—‘The Chateau de Vandyck.’ Look at it.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Quartier Leopold, Brussels,Dec28, 1840.
“I was just puzzling my brains with the knotty problem how to pay two hundred with one, when the solution of the difficulty came from another quarter—a most civil letter from the Currys, enclosing me £100en cadeau de saison, expressing themselves sorry that their finances limited the present, and in fact doing the thing handsomely. The letter contained a pressing proposition to continue ‘O’Malley’ to 20 Nos.—a project my pocket, but not my brains, concurs in. I fear much that the public may grow very weary of the mere narrative details of battle and bloodshed which must necessarily make up the staple of the additional Nos., but they reply that the Peninsular part is likely to be popular, and in fact press me to give what in a chance conversation I hinted,—a prolongation down to Waterloo, to conclude with the battle, which [task] as regards locality, &c., I have many opportunities for making a strong thing.
“I should like to have your opinion on this. The plan is to publish the present ten numbers at once complete in one vol., and then proceed seriatim with the others. In a trade point of view a good idea; but the fear is, shall I not mar all by spinning out?—for so much has my head been running on other matters that I have latterly sat down to write without a particle of material in my mind, and merely ran on mechanically stringing sentences, sometimes so far away from the whole thing that but for my wife I had given wrong names to the characters and [made] a dozen similar blunders.
“I am about to have a special audience of the king on Friday. My grandeur costs me nearly £50 for a uniform. Do you know, ‘I’m Captain in the Derry Militia’ and aide-de-camp to somebody! His Majesty has been graciously pleased to move his royal jaws in laughter at something in ‘O’Malley,’ and I am to wait upon him while he expounds that same to me in French,—a great bore on many accounts, but an unavoidable one, such requests being very imperative. I am told I shall be asked to dinner, but this I don’t calculate on....
“The whole population is skating, and the consumption of schnaps is tremendous....
“The war rumour is over for the present, but both parties have shown their teeth, and the thing will come to blows sooner or later. One must live abroad to comprehend the rooted feeling of dislike the Continent entertains towards England. Waterloo is as great a grudge to the Prussians and Austrians as to the beaten French themselves,—and all the nations hate us.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Quartier Leopold, Brussels,Feb. 15, 1841.
“...I am getting so much more to like the literary [life] than the medical one, that I think very often of abandoning the latter for the former; not, I entreat you to believe, on the strength of anything I have hitherto done (of which I feel in no way vain), but of what I hope and trust I shall do in the future.
“Bentley has this day offered me £1000 for a new book of 12 Nos., but don’t mention this to any one, for I would not treat with him pro or con without making Curry & Co. perfectlyau faitto all. I owe this equally to myself and to them. They [Curry & Co.] have been most honourable in all their dealings, and they shall certainly not lose by treating me so; in fact, it is in reconnaissance for this conduct that I am now continuing ‘O’Malley’ to two vols, when double pay awaits me in another quarter. I have also accepted no remuneration for my MSS. lost by fire, so that I think all the generosity comes not on one side.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Quartier Leopold, Brussels,May16, 1841.
“I never felt so provokingly pressed, and all for the ill-conduct of others. I have at the moment nearly £200 due to me, and yet I cannot get a sou, and despair of ever receiving more than one-fourth of it.
“Curry is most punctual, but even his fifties won’t do everything, and I am sorely put out. Meanwhile, to drown care, I am working hard at my book, and have two whole numbers written in advance after that to appear on the 1st June, so that you see I am not idle.
“I am pleased at your kind mention of the last No., which I half feared was not good; but I am so easily inclined to believe what I wish, that your good-natured criticism has put me on good terms with myself. My next No. is, I think, my best. I should much like your opinion when you see it. I have written to John; indeed I deluge him with letters—but with an object,—for I plainly see how much benefit my ‘distraction’ does the poor fellow, and what service it is to take him out of the harness even for a moment, and although I have nothing of interest to tell, yet the very fact that we are engaged about each other has its excitement, and from whatIfeel I know he also must be the better....
“I am actually nervous when a day’s illness comes on me, and solely for this cause [namely, that he feared he could not keep up his insurance payments]. I don’t mention this in any low spirits and depression, but as the only available mode I can think of for tying up my hands,—for whatever is once devoted to any given object I’ll refrain from, and there is no fear of my incurring debt, though I freely confess I can spend my utmost farthing.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“June22, 1841.
“I almost thought I should have had another gossip with you ere this—je vous dirai pourquoi,—don’t laugh, though I’ll forgive you even if you should,—but I received a requisition asking me to allow myself to be put in nomination for Trinity College at the coming election. As I write hurriedly, I can only say that although the matter gave me more surprise than satisfaction, yet on thinking over it, weighing all theprosandcons, reflecting that, although unsuccessful now, I might, if well supported, be luckier at a later period; and finally, thinking that politics are about the best trade going, I said rather more yea than nay: all the calculations of my friends say that Shaw must be beaten, and [ ] has no hope, if contested. The B. of Exeter is most warm in my cause, and says, ‘Start for Trinity, for if unsuccessful there, your colours are shown and you’ll get another ship.’
“Now I have gone cautiously to work. I have said, Tell me what can you do for me? say what forces can you bring into the field in my support? what are my chances? what are my expenses?
“The medicals would stand by me well, so would a large section of my Bar friends. The parsons are, however, the main body. What would they do? I can’t guess.
“Meanwhile I am on the tenter-hooks: each post may decide me one way or the other, and, to confess the fact, I have enormous confidence in my good luck. I never pushed it yet without a fortunate result, and I am more than ever inclined to test its constancy.
“I write these few and very hurried lines solely to apprise you of what is going forward. Before this reaches you the whole may have ended in smoke, or I may be on my way over.
“If the latter, I shall of course be as anxious as may be; only believe one thing: rash as I may seem when determined to make a spring, I take time enough, before I gird for the effort, to reflect upon the consequences and calculate the results. With my warmest regard to you and yours.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
June1841.
“I send you the last four vols, of Capefigue. Are you doing anything further for M’Glashan, and what? What would you think of translating some of thefeuilletonsof the French papers? they are either short stories or clever [? literary] criticisms. I could always give you a supply of the freshest. Do tell me what you think of this, and for once in your life, my dear friend, speak a little of yourself and your own concerns.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“July2,1841.
“I send you somefeuilletonswhich, if you translate, I should take. The ‘Chasse au [ ]’ is admirable.
“I have been applied to to write a Life of Napoleon on a great scale, based on Capefigue’s work. (Don’t speak of this to Curry.) I look for a big sum, but the negotiation hangs.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Quartier Leopold, Brussels,July3, 1841.
“The opportunity of sending my letter having failed me at the time I expected, I reopen my package to add a few more words. I have read your kind letter with much attention, and a most sincere gratitude for the evidence of an interest I never doubted. Circumstances have rendered the pursuit hopeless at present, but the future chances I should look to with some anxiety and hope,—and I’ll tell you why. Should I succeed in getting in, I know from the opinion of those high in position how much the work of even an inferior person is looked for and prized by a party, and to what uses can be put the man who has acquired a certain readiness at reply [some words undecipherable here], the way of publication, and what [? friends] assist him.
“I do not mean to say that even the ambition of such a position in society would repay one who likes his ease for the wear and tear, anxiety, turmoil, and annoyance of political existence, but what I mean is this, that an equal quantity of work directed to the interests of a party is better paid and better advantaged than when executed for a publisher. And when I see the men of my own standing—and I could name a dozen such who neither have done anything as yet, nor can they in future—well off, promoted, placed, and provided for, simply because they took up public life as a trade,vicea profession, I am well disposed to think that with a very long acquaintance and a strong troop of what the world calls friends, some character, and a strong determination to get on,—why, I think the game a good one.
“Well as you know me, you as well as John make one mistake about me. I am not—I never was—a sanguine man. I have pumped up false enthusiasm many a time till it has imposed even upon myself, and when success came people said I predicted it, but, my dear friend, I never was fortunate yet without being the man most astonished at my own good luck. This I mention that you may know that it is no piece of soft unction I am flattering myself with, but a cold cautious calculation in which for a certain outlay of labour, directed in a way I like, I look for a certain amount of income. But enough of myself, my hopes, fears, plots, perplexities....
“Folds has just been decreed the sum of £8000 for his fire (as malicious burning). Will you try and ascertain if any remuneration is to be made to me for my losses, a considerable portion of my MSS. being burnt and destroyed, for which I have received no amends?”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussels,July19, 1841.
“I wrote lately to you mentioning, among other matters, some hopes I entertained that Mr Folds’ fire might prove a most genial flame, warming not only him but me. Is this a likely circumstance? I would not wish the Currys in any manner to be involved in the reparation—if such there be—to be made to me, but if Mr Folds really does receive compensation for his type, why should not I for my tale? To him, therefore, would I look, and I think in justice he can’t refuse my application.
“The weather here is awful beyond anything I ever heard of—incessant rain, cold and strong winds, the harvest greatly injured, the hay totally ruined. How are you off in Ireland?
“In election matters your success has been indeed triumphant. I have just learned from our Ambassador that he has received a title from ‘The Duke.’ The party are up in the stirrups and delighted with the success. The only certain appointment as yet made out is that of Lord de Grey formerly (Lord) Grantham, Lord Ripon’s brother, to be Viceroy. This is from the Duke, and may be relied on. Lord Londonderry is spoken of as Ambassador for Paris, but they hope to send him to Russia. Lord Lyndhurst is pretty sure of the Chancellorship if his age doesn’t prevent his acceptance. It is all nonsense about his being named Ambassador to Paris: his wife could not be received there, where her father had been for years a paid spy of the police, mixing in the lowest walk, and among the most debased and degenerate associates....
“I believe M’Glashan is coming to see me. John, I fear, has given up his trip; and indeed if he did come, I’d rather he would do so when I was quite free of all the other visitors, for I think he would only be bored by the artistic clique by whom, for the next few weeks, I am likely to be surrounded.
“Are you doing anything in the writing way? Or is there anything here in the book market which you would like to look at? A very valuable and a still more amusing book is just published in Paris, called ‘Le Forçat,’ in which the whole state and condition of the prisoner at the galleys is displayed, illustrating the history of crime and punishment in a most curious and remarkable light. What would you think of making from this material some article for the D. U. Mag.?
“You see I am most anxious about [exploiting] you, and more than all, because I can answer for your success. Pray, my dear friend, don’t neglect what I know to be your qualification, and what with such as you would deem very little labour must prove a good [? speculation] as regards money.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussels,Aug. 8,1841.
“I am delighted to find that at last you have taken my advice. The ‘Chasse’ is capital I read it to M’Glashan last night. He is much pleased with it. I shall now continue to pour infeuilletonson you, and you must work.
“We are about to start for a ramble into Germany with M’Glashan, taking my own horses. We shall probably remain some weeks. I have arranged with him about several things,—among others, a work in two vols, on Belgium. Some articles on Capefigue would tell, and certainly ‘The Forçat’ would be worth your while dipping into....
“If I only had sufficient pluck to cut calomel and camphor, I think I could even save money. As it is, I am only pulling the devil by the tail from one year’s end to the other.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussels,Sept. 7,1841.
“I have just returned from a five weeks’ ramble in Germany, where I have been greatly delighted. M’Glashan was with us; he will tell you all our adventures.”
‘Jack Hinton’ was causing him just as much anxiety as ‘O’Malley’ had produced. He told M’Glashan that the book would drive him mad; that he could think of nothing else, and that he could enjoy no rest until he had finished it.
He sighed often for the companionship of some sympathetic Mends; and one day he was delighted to welcome two very distinguished ones—Samuel Lover and Hablot K. Browne. M’Glashan wanted to have a “portrait of the author” for ‘Jack Hinton,’ and Lover was commissioned to paint the portrait. Phiz came to consult Lever about the illustrations for his new book, Lever having entered a protest against Browne’s tendency to caricature.
Samuel Lover described this visit as being a round of boisterous merriment. Their host introduced the two artists to Commissary-General Mayne, who was the prototype of Major Monsoon in ‘Charles O’Malley.’ Mayne dined with them daily, and they “laughed themselves sick” over his stories. They held a ceremony of installation of “The Knights of Alacantra,”—Lever, Lover, and Phiz being made Grand Crosses of the order. There was music and a procession and a grand ballet. Writing to M’Glashan shortly after the Lover-Phiz visitation, the author of ‘Charles O’Malley’ said: “If I have a glass of champagne left—we finished nine dozen in the sixteen days Lover and Phiz spent here—I’ll drink it to your health.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Nov. 2, 1841.
“I have been daily, for some weeks past, hoping to have some news to tell you respecting your MS., and at last am forced to write without. I sent it over to Bentley with a pressing letter, for in my avarice his £12, 12s. per sheet tempted me, instead of the miserable pay of the D. U. M., which gives but £7 for nearly double the quantity. He kept me waiting his reply for six weeks, and then I hear that the press of literary matter is such that no article can be read for some time to come. I have, of course, written to get it back, and yesterday wrote to Chambers to secure it a berth in the ‘Journal,’ where, if I succeed, the pay is still better than ‘Dublin,’ and the road for future contributions more open and available.
“Though I know you will attribute this delay not to any lukewarmness of mine, yet am I not the less provoked. All these things require patience in the beginning, however, and had I been discouraged, as I confess I very nearly was, I should never have written a second chapter of ‘Lorrequer,’ much less what followed it.
“Indeed, to give you an idea of editorial discernment: the story most quoted and selected by reviewers for praise was, three years and a half before I began the ‘Confessions,’ sent up to the D. U. M., and rejected by Butt as an unworthy contribution. And this [story] was afterwards pronounced by ‘Fraser’s Magazine’ the best bit of modern humour. So much for one critic or author.
“There are many things daily coming out in the French press I wish you would attack. Are you aware that Mrs Gore’s novels, bought for £500 each set (3 vols.), are only translations with a newly invented title? Such is the fact. My time latterly has been tolerably occupied by finishing ‘O’Malley,’ which required a double No. for December, and making thedébutof my new hero Jack Hinton—besides which doctoring, and occasionally scribbling short articles for the ‘University.’ I wish much you had seen the first volume of ‘Our Mess.’ I am more than usually nervous about its success. Every new book is a new effort, and the world is often discontented with the forthcoming work of a man whom their own flattery induced to commit himself at first.
“My idea of Jack Hinton is of anexceedingly Englishyoung Guardsman coming over to Ireland at the period of the Duke of Richmond’s vice-royalty, when every species of rackety [? doings] was in vogue. The contrasts of the two countries as exhibited in him, and those about him, form the tableaux of the book. The story is a mere personal narrative.
“Browne (Phiz) has been with us for the last few weeks making arrangements about the illustrations, and I think this part, at least, will be better than heretofore. M’Glashan is very fair about the whole concern, and promises liberally in the event of success.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Quartier Leopold, Brussels,Nov. 14,1841.
“Dublin, if I am to trust the papers, is a changed city, and indeed I am disposed to believe them, and to have a great hope that a moderate Government with Tory leanings would be the fairest chance for peace in so disturbed a country.
“I have been scribbling about Lord Eliot in the last Mag.*
* “Ireland and her Rulers”: D. U. M., Nov. 1841.
“I am working—what for me is very hard indeed,—writing five or six hours daily; not going into society, dining early, and taking a half bottle of hock at my dinner. With all my early hours and abstinence my feet are swelled up, and I can scarcely walk when I get up in the morning.
“I have written to M’Glashan to give you a proof of ‘Jack Hinton’—No. 1—which I wish you’d read over, and then send on to John. I’d like to have your opinion (both of you) about it: don’t forget this.
“I have also hinted to John a scheme of which I have been thinking for some time—which is to retire from my profession ere it retires from me,—in plain words, to seek some cheap (and perhaps nasty) place where I could grub on for a few hundreds per annum and lay by a little. Here I am pulling the devil by the tail the whole year through, and only get sore fingers for my pains; and as my contract with Curry secures me £1200 per annum for three years at least, perhaps I ought not to hesitate about adopting some means of letting a little of it, at least, escape the wreck. Give this your consideration, and say also if you know of a nice cottage in Wicklow, about twenty-five to thirty miles from town, where I could transfer myself bag and baggage—furniture and all—at a moment’s warning. My only chance of economy is to be where money cannot be spent, and if I lived for £700 per annum (a liberal allowance too) in Ireland, the remaining five would be well worth laying by.
“I could have the editorship of ‘Bentley’s Miscellany’ at a salary of £800 per annum, but this would involve living in London. I could bring over a governess for my brats from this, and without much trouble import as many of my here habits as I care for.”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Brussels,Dec. 17, 1841.
“Thanks for your most kind and affectionate letter. I think you are mistaken as to Brussels, and suppose that gaiety, society, &c., are stimulants that I can’t live without. Now the fact is, I do so at the moment, and have done for a long while past,—society being the very thing that unhinges me for writing, my slippers and my fireside being as essential to me as my pen and ink-bottle. Secondly, theincognitothat you deem of service (as John does) is not what you suppose. It is only anom de guerre, when my own name is seen throughout; and in England, where I am more read and prize the repute higher, Charles Lever is as much a pseudonym as Harry Lorrequer, for indeed H. L. is believed to exist, and no one cares whether C. L. does or not.
“What I thought of was not society, not a [? fashionable] neighbourhood: scenery, quiet, cheapness above all. I sent you a, I thought, very good [? story]: pray agree with me and translate it. I hope to hear something from Chambers every post, and when I do you shall know.
“I open a series of papers next month in the ‘U. Magazine,’ called, I believe, ‘Nuts and Nut-Crackers., This is a secret, however, and done to prevent M’Glashan reprinting ‘Our Mess’ in his confoundedly stupid journal.”
The pleasure he derived from Lover’s company made Lever more anxious than ever to pay a visit to Ireland, and gradually he came to the conclusion that he would be happier and more free from worries in his native land than he would be in any other portion of the globe. He proposed to M’Glashan that he should settle down in the neighbourhood of Dublin and take up the editorship of the ‘University Magazine.’ He was now willing to relinquish for ever the profession of medicine. M’Glashan was agreeable, and offered to pay Lever £1200 a-year, “with half profits, on all he wrote.” These negotiations were not completed until the close of the year 1841.
And then the restless novelist could think of nothing but of his speedy return to the land of his birth. He nourished a plan for a touring expedition through Ireland, disguised as a Frenchman. He had a sheaf of designs for Irish humorous publications,—‘The Weekly Quiz.’ to be illustrated by Phiz; ‘Blarney,’ which was to be launched on the 1st of April. There was also to be a series for the magazine entitled “Noctes Lorrequeriana”—an Irish ‘Noctes Ambrosianæ.’ Another contemplated work was ‘The Wild Songs of the West’—a mock collection of pseudo-original Irish ballads, to be composed by Lever himself. A short time previously he had formulated a larger scheme—‘The Irish, by Themselves,’ a comprehensive volume to be written by various hands, and to be bound in “a bright emerald cover, with an Irishman on a spit and another one roasting him, according to Swift.”
But all these Hiberniose projects came to nought.
In January 1842 we see the last of Charles Lever as a medical man. He advertised his practice for sale and left Brussels, fervently hoping that he would find contentment in his own country.
He did not put aside the lancet lightly. Shortly before his death, referring to this crisis in his career, he made this avowal: “Having given up the profession, for which I believe I had some aptitude, to follow the precarious life of a writer, I suppose I am admitting only what many others, under like circumstances, might declare—that I have had my moments, and more than mere moments, of doubt and misgiving that I had made the wiser choice; and, bating the intense pleasure an occasional success has afforded, I have been led to think that the career I abandoned would have been more rewarding, more safe from reverses, and less exposed to those variations of public taste which are the terrors of all who live by the world’s favour.”
It is doubtful whether Lever would have succeeded in reaching the higher walks of medicine; and it is pretty certain that he would not have found contentment in jogging along the beaten tracks. His temperament was too unstable to admit of the incessant and inalienable toil which helps to make the great physician. Having once started upon the literary path, if he had turned aside from it he would never have been free from misgivings that he had abandoned the road to fortune and to fame. If he had endeavoured to confine his intellectual powers to the study and practice of the healing art, and if success had crowned his efforts, it is most likely that his life would have been more even and more happy; but he would have missed the moments of exaltation which were worth living for, even if they were followed occasionally by periods of abysmal melancholy. Lever the physician could have benefited only those with whom he came into direct contact: Lever the novelist could, and did, provide a rich fund of healthy enjoyment for a vast circle of his contemporaries, and for posterity. One can hardly doubt that in abandoning medicine for fiction he chose the better part.