Forster how she could have an easy-chair or a sofa behind my side screen
on Tuesday, without occasioning the smallest inconvenience to anybody.
Also, how she would have a door close at hand, leading at once to cool
passages and a quiet room, etc. etc. etc. It is a sad story.
We had a fine house here last night, and a large turn-away. "Marigold"
and "Trial" went immensely. I doubt if "Marigold" were ever more
enthusiastically received. "Copperfield" and "Bob" to-night, and a large
let. This notwithstanding election meetings and all sorts of things.
My favourite room brought my voice round last night, and I am in
considerable force.
Dolby sends kindest regard, and the message: "Everton toffee shall not
be forgotten."
[Sidenote: Mr. Henry Fielding Dickens.]
ADELPHI HOTEL, LIVERPOOL, _Thursday, Oct. 15th, 1868._
MY DEAR HARRY,
I have your letter here this morning. I enclose you another cheque for
twenty-five pounds, and I write to London by this post, ordering three
dozen sherry, two dozen port, and three dozen light claret, to be sent
down to you.
Now, observe attentively. We must have no shadow of debt. Square up
everything whatsoever that it has been necessary to buy. Let not a
farthing be outstanding on any account, when we begin together with your
allowance. Be particular in the minutest detail.
I wish to have no secret from you in the relations we are to establish
together, and I therefore send you Joe Chitty's letter bodily. Reading
it, you will know exactly what I know, and will understand that I treat
you with perfect confidence. It appears to me that an allowance of two
hundred and fifty pounds a year will be handsome for all your wants, if
I send you your wines. I mean this to include your tailor's bills as
well as every other expense; and I strongly recommend you to buy nothing
in Cambridge, and to take credit for nothing but the clothes with which
your tailor provides you. As soon as you have got your furniture
accounts in, let us wipe all those preliminary expenses clean out, and I
will then send you your first quarter. We will count in it October,
November, and December; and your second quarter will begin with the New
Year. If you dislike, at first, taking charge of so large a sum as
sixty-two pounds ten shillings, you can have your money from me
half-quarterly.
You know how hard I work for what I get, and I think you know that I
never had money help from any human creature after I was a child. You
know that you are one of many heavy charges on me, and that I trust to
your so exercising your abilities and improving the advantages of your
past expensive education, as soon to diminish _this_ charge. I say no
more on that head.
Whatever you do, above all other things keep out of debt and confide in
me. If you ever find yourself on the verge of any perplexity or
difficulty, come to me. You will never find me hard with you while you
are manly and truthful.
As your brothers have gone away one by one, I have written to each of
them what I am now going to write to you. You know that you have never
been hampered with religious forms of restraint, and that with mere
unmeaning forms I have no sympathy. But I most strongly and
affectionately impress upon you the priceless value of the New
Testament, and the study of that book as the one unfailing guide in
life. Deeply respecting it, and bowing down before the character of our
Saviour, as separated from the vain constructions and inventions of men,
you cannot go very wrong, and will always preserve at heart a true
spirit of veneration and humility. Similarly I impress upon you the
habit of saying a Christian prayer every night and morning. These things
have stood by me all through my life, and remember that I tried to
render the New Testament intelligible to you and lovable by you when you
were a mere baby.
And so God bless you.
Ever your affectionate Father.
[Sidenote: Mr. William Charles Kent.]
OFFICE OF "ALL THE YEAR ROUND,"
_Monday, Nov. 16th, 1868._
MY DEAR KENT,
I was on the eve of writing to you.
We thought of keeping the trial private; but Oxenford has suggested to
Chappell that he would like to take the opportunity of to-morrow night's
reading, of saying something about "Oliver" in _Wednesday's paper_.
Chappell has told Levy of this, and also Mr. Tompkin, of _The Post_,
who was there. Consequently, on Wednesday evening your charming article
can come out to the best advantage.
You have no idea of the difficulty of getting in the end of Sikes. As to
the man with the invaluable composition! my dear fellow, believe me, no
audience on earth could be held for ten minutes after the girl's death.
Give them time, and they would be revengeful for having had such a
strain put upon them. Trust me to be right. I stand there, and I know.
Concerning Harry, I like to guide the boys to a distinct choice, rather
than to press it on them. That will be my course as to the Middle
Temple, of which I think as you do.
With cordial thanks for every word in your letter,
Affectionately yours always.
[Sidenote: Mrs. F. Lehmann.]
KENNEDY'S HOTEL, EDINBURGH, _Sunday, Dec. 6th, 1868._
MY DEAR MRS. LEHMANN,
I hope you will see Nancy with the light of a great audience upon her
some time between this and May; always supposing that she should not
prove too weird and woeful for the general public.
You know the aspect of this city on a Sunday, and how gay and bright it
is. The merry music of the blithe bells, the waving flags, the
prettily-decorated houses with their draperies of various colours, and
the radiant countenances at the windows and in the streets, how charming
they are! The usual preparations are making for the band in the open
air, in the afternoon; and the usual pretty children (selected for that
purpose) are at this moment hanging garlands round the Scott monument,
preparatory to the innocent Sunday dance round that edifice, with which
the diversions invariably close. It is pleasant to think that these
customs were themselves of the early Christians, those early birds who
_didn't_ catch the worm--and nothing else--and choke their young with
it.
Faithfully yours always.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
KENNEDY'S HOTEL, EDINBURGH, _Sunday, Dec. 6th, 1868._
We got down here to our time to the moment; and, considering the length
of the journey, very easily. I made a calculation on the road, that the
railway travelling over such a distance involves something more than
thirty thousand shocks to the nerves. Dolby didn't like it at all.
The signals for a gale were up at Berwick, and along the road between
there and here. It came on just as we arrived, and blew tremendously
hard all night. The wind is still very high, though the sky is bright
and the sun shining. We couldn't sleep for the noise.
We are very comfortably quartered. I fancy that the "business" will be
on the whole better here than in Glasgow, where trade is said to be very
bad. But I think I shall be pretty correct in both places as to the run
being on the final readings.
We are going up Arthur's Seat presently, which will be a pull for our
fat friend.
Scott, in a new Mephistopheles hat, baffles imagination and description.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. Wilkie Collins.]
KENNEDY'S HOTEL, EDINBURGH, _Tuesday, Dec. 8th, 1868._
MY DEAR WILKIE,
I am hard at it here as usual, though with an audience so finely
perceptive that the labour is much diminished. I have got together in a
very short space the conclusion of "Oliver Twist" that you suggested,
and am trying it daily with the object of rising from that blank state
of horror into a fierce and passionate rush for the end. As yet I cannot
make a certain effect of it; but when I shall have gone over it as many
score of times as over the rest of that reading, perhaps I may strike
one out.
I shall be very glad to hear when you have done your play, and I _am_
glad to hear that you like the steamer. I agree with you about the
reading perfectly. In No. 3 you will see an exact account of some places
I visited at Ratcliffe. There are two little instances in it of
something comic rising up in the midst of the direst misery, that struck
me very humorously at the time.
As I have determined not to do the "Oliver Murder" until after the 5th
of January, when I shall ascertain its effect on a great audience, it is
curious to notice how the shadow of its coming affects the Scotch mind.
There was such a disposition to hold back for it here (until I return to
finish in February) that we had next to no "let" when we arrived. It all
came with a rush yesterday. They gave me a most magnificent welcome back
from America last night.
I am perpetually counting the weeks before me to be "read" through, and
am perpetually longing for the end of them; and yet I sometimes wonder
whether I shall miss something when they are over.
It is a very, very bad day here, very dark and very wet. Dolby is over
at Glasgow, and I am sitting at a side window looking up the length of
Prince's Street, watching the mist change over the Castle and murdering
Nancy by turns.
Ever affectionately.
P.S.--I have read the whole of Fitzgerald's "Zero," and the idea is
exceedingly well wrought out.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
KENNEDY'S HOTEL, EDINBURGH, _Saturday, Dec. 12th, 1868._
I send another _Scotsman_ by this post, because it is really a good
newspaper, well written, and well managed. We had an immense house here
last night, and a very large turn-away.
We have four guests to dinner to-day: Peter Fraser, Ballantyne, John
Blackwood, and Mr. Russel. Immense preparations are making in the
establishment, "on account," Mr. Kennedy says, "of a' four yon chiels
being chiels wha' ken a guid dinner." I enquired after poor Doctor Burt,
not having the least idea that he was dead.
My voice holds out splendidly so far, and I have had no return of the
American. But I sleep very indifferently indeed.
It blew appallingly here the night before last, but the wind has since
shifted northward, and it is now bright and cold. The _Star of Hope_,
that picked up those shipwrecked people in the boat, came into Leith
yesterday, and was received with tremendous cheers. Her captain must be
a good man and a noble fellow.
[Sidenote: The same.]
KENNEDY'S HOTEL, EDINBURGH, _Monday, Dec. 14th, 1868._
The dinner-party of Saturday last was an immense success. Russel swore
on the occasion that he would go over to Belfast expressly to dine with
me at the Finlays'. Ballantyne informed me that he was going to send you
some Scotch remembrance (I don't know what) at Christmas!
The Edinburgh houses are very fine. The Glasgow room is a big wandering
place, with five prices in it, which makes it the more aggravating, as
the people get into knots which they can't break, as if they were afraid
of one another.
Forgery of my name is becoming popular. You sent me, this morning, a
letter from Russell Sturgis, answering a supposed letter of mine
(presented by "Miss Jefferies"), and assuring me of his readiness to
give not only the ten pounds I asked for, but any contribution I wanted,
towards sending that lady and her family back to Boston.
I wish you would take an opportunity of forewarning Lady Tennent that
the first night's reading she will attend is an experiment quite out of
the way, and that she may find it rather horrible.
The keeper of the Edinburgh Hall, a fine old soldier, presented me, on
Friday night, with the finest red camellia for my button-hole that ever
was seen. Nobody can imagine how he came by it, as the florists had had
a considerable demand for that colour from ladies in the stalls, and
could get no such thing.
The day is dark, wet, and windy. The weather is likely to be vile indeed
at Glasgow, where it always rains, and where the sun is never seen
through the smoke. We go over there to-morrow at ten.
[Sidenote: Miss Dickens.]
CARRICK'S ROYAL HOTEL, GLASGOW,
_Tuesday, Dec. 15th, 1868._
It occurs to me that my table at St. James's Hall might be appropriately
ornamented with a little holly next Tuesday. If the two front legs were
entwined with it, for instance, and a border of it ran round the top of
the fringe in front, with a little sprig by way of bouquet at each
corner, it would present a seasonable appearance.
If you will think of this, and will have the materials ready in a little
basket, I will call for you at the office at half-past twelve on
Tuesday, and take you up to the hall, where the table will be ready for
you.
No news, except that we had a great crush and a wonderful audience in
Edinburgh last night.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
CARRICK'S ROYAL HOTEL, GLASGOW,
_Wednesday, Dec. 16th, 1868._
This is to report all well, except that I have wretched nights. The
weather is diabolical here, and times are very bad. I cut "Copperfield"
with a bold dexterity that amazed myself and utterly confounded George
at the wing; knocking off that and "Bob" by ten minutes to ten.
I don't know anything about the Liverpool banquet, except from _The
Times_. As I don't finish there in February (as they seem to have
supposed), but in April, it may, perhaps, stand over or blow over
altogether. Such a thing would be a serious addition to the work, and
yet refusal on my part would be too ungracious.
The density and darkness of this atmosphere are fearful. I shall be
heartily glad to start for Edinburgh again on Friday morning.
[Sidenote: The same.]
KENNEDY'S HOTEL, EDINBURGH, _Friday, Dec. 18th, 1868._
I am heartily glad to get back here this afternoon. The day is bright
and cheerful, and the relief from Glasgow inexpressible. The
affectionate regard of the people exceeds all bounds, and is shown in
every way. The manager of the railway being at the reading the other
night, wrote to me next morning, saying that a large saloon should be
prepared for my journey up, if I would let him know when I purposed
making the journey. On my accepting the offer he wrote again, saying
that he had inspected "our Northern saloons," and not finding them so
convenient for sleeping in as the best English, had sent up to King's
Cross for the best of the latter; which I would please consider my own
carriage as long as I wanted it. The audiences do everything but
embrace me, and take as much pains with the readings as I do.
I find your Christmas present (just arrived) to be a haggis and
shortbread!
[Sidenote: Mr. J. C. Parkinson.]
GAD'S HILL PLACE, HIGHAM BY ROCHESTER, KENT,
_Christmas Day, 1868._
MY DEAR PARKINSON,
When your letter was delivered at "All the Year Round" Office yesterday,
I was attending a funeral. It comes to hand here consequently to-day.
I am diffident of addressing Mr. Gladstone on the subject of your desire
to be appointed to the vacant Commissionership of Inland Revenue,
because, although my respect for him and confidence in him are second to
those of no man in England (a bold word at this time, but a truthful
one), my personal acquaintance with him is very slight. But you may
make, through any of your friends, any use you please of this letter,
towards the end of bringing its contents under Mr. Gladstone's notice.
In expressing my conviction that you deserve the place, and are in every
way qualified for it, I found my testimony upon as accurate a knowledge
of your character and abilities as anyone can possibly have acquired. In
my editorship both of "Household Words" and "All the Year Round," you
know very well that I have invariably offered you those subjects of
political and social interest to write upon, in which integrity,
exactness, a remarkable power of generalising evidence and balancing
facts, and a special clearness in stating the case, were indispensable
on the part of the writer. My confidence in your powers has never been
misplaced, and through all our literary intercourse you have never been
hasty or wrong. Whatever trust you have undertaken has been so
completely discharged, that it has become my habit to read your proofs
rather for my own edification than (as in other cases) for the detection
of some slip here or there, or the more pithy presentation of the
subject.
That your literary work has never interfered with the discharge of your
official duties, I may assume to be at least as well known to your
colleagues as it is to me. It is idle to say that if the post were in my
gift you should have it, because you have had, for some years, most of
the posts of high trust that have been at my disposal. An excellent
public servant in your literary sphere of action, I should be heartily
glad if you could have this new opportunity of distinguishing yourself
in the same character. And this is at least unselfish in me, for I
suppose I should then lose you?
Always faithfully yours.
[Sidenote: Mr. Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens.]
LETTER TO HIS YOUNGEST SON ON HIS DEPARTURE FOR
AUSTRALIA IN 1868.[27]
MY DEAREST PLORN,
I write this note to-day because your going away is much upon my mind,
and because I want you to have a few parting words from me to think of
now and then at quiet times. I need not tell you that I love you dearly,
and am very, very sorry in my heart to part with you. But this life is
half made up of partings, and these pains must be borne. It is my
comfort and my sincere conviction that you are going to try the life for
which you are beat fitted. I think its freedom and wildness more suited
to you than any experiment in a study or office would ever have been;
and without that training, you could have followed no other suitable
occupation.
What you have already wanted until now has been a set, steady, constant
purpose. I therefore exhort you to persevere in a thorough determination
to do whatever you have to do as well as you can do it. I was not so old
as you are now when I first had to win my food, and do this out of this
determination, and I have never slackened in it since.
Never take a mean advantage of anyone in any transaction, and never be
hard upon people who are in your power. Try to do to others, as you
would have them do to you, and do not be discouraged if they fail
sometimes. It is much better for you that they should fail in obeying
the greatest rule laid down by our Saviour, than that you should.
I put a New Testament among your books, for the very same reasons, and
with the very same hopes that made me write an easy account of it for
you, when you were a little child; because it is the best book that ever
was or will be known in the world, and because it teaches you the best
lessons by which any human creature who tries to be truthful and
faithful to duty can possibly be guided. As your brothers have gone
away, one by one, I have written to each such words as I am now writing
to you, and have entreated them all to guide themselves by this book,
putting aside the interpretations and inventions of men.
You will remember that you have never at home been wearied about
religious observances or mere formalities. I have always been anxious
not to weary my children with such things before they are old enough to
form opinions respecting them. You will therefore understand the better
that I now most solemnly impress upon you the truth and beauty of the
Christian religion, as it came from Christ Himself, and the
impossibility of your going far wrong if you humbly but heartily respect
it.
Only one thing more on this head. The more we are in earnest as to
feeling it, the less we are disposed to hold forth about it. Never
abandon the wholesome practice of saying your own private prayers, night
and morning. I have never abandoned it myself, and I know the comfort of
it.
I hope you will always be able to say in after life, that you had a kind
father. You cannot show your affection for him so well, or make him so
happy, as by doing your duty.
Your affectionate Father.
FOOTNOTES:
[20] The Agricultural College, Cirencester.
[21] "No Thoroughfare."
[22] The Mr. H. F. Chorley so often mentioned was the well-known musical
critic, and a dear and intimate friend of Charles Dickens and his
family. We have no letters to him, Mr. Chorley having destroyed all his
correspondence before his death.
[23] Mr. Chauncey Hare Townshend. He was one of the dearest friends of
Charles Dickens and a very constant correspondent; but no letters
addressed to him are in existence.
[24] An American family of brothers and a sister who came to London to
give a musical entertainment shortly after Charles Dickens's return from
his first visit to America. He had a great interest in, and liking for,
these young people.
[25] Cousin and adopted child of Mr. and Mrs. Austin.
[26] A model of a Swiss chalet, and a present from M. Charles Fechter,
used by Charles Dickens as a summer writing-room.
[27] This letter has been already published by Mr. Forster in his
"Life."
1869.
NARRATIVE.
The "Farewell Readings" in town and country were resumed immediately
after the beginning of this year, and were to have been continued until
the end of May. The work was even harder than it had ever been. Charles
Dickens began his country tour in Ireland early in January, and read
continuously in all parts of England and Scotland until the end of
April. A public dinner (in commemoration of his last readings in the
town) was given to him at Liverpool on the 10th April. Besides all this
severe country work, he was giving a series of readings at St. James's
Hall, and reading the "Murder" from "Oliver Twist," in London and in the
country, frequently four times a week. In the second week of February, a
sudden and unusually violent attack of the old trouble in his foot made
it imperatively necessary to postpone a reading at St. James's Hall, and
to delay for a day or two his departure for Scotland. The foot continued
to cause him pain and inconvenience, but, as will be seen from his
letters, he generally spoke of himself as otherwise well, until he
arrived at Preston, where he was to read on the 22nd of April. The day
before this appointed reading, he writes home of some grave symptoms
which he had observed in himself, and had reported to his doctor, Mr. F.
Carr Beard. That gentleman, taking alarm at what he considered
"indisputable evidences of overwork," wisely resolved not to content
himself with written consultations, but went down to Preston on the day
appointed for the reading there, and, after seeing his patient,
peremptorily stopped it, carried him off to Liverpool, and the next day
to London. There he consulted Sir Thomas Watson, who entirely
corroborated Mr. Beard's opinion. And the two doctors agreed that the
course of readings must be stopped for this year, and that reading,
_combined with travelling_, must be stopped _for ever_. Charles Dickens
had no alternative but to acquiesce in this verdict; but he felt it
keenly, not only for himself, but for the sake of the Messrs. Chappell,
who showed the most disinterested kindness and solicitude on the
occasion. He at once returned home to Gad's Hill, and the rest and quiet
of the country restored him, for the time, to almost his usual condition
of health and spirits. But it was observed, by all who loved him, that
from this time forth he never regained his old vigour and elasticity.
The attack at Preston was the "beginning of the end!"
During the spring and summer of this year, he received visits from many
dearly valued American friends. In May, he stayed with his daughter and
sister-in-law for two or three weeks at the St. James's Hotel,
Piccadilly, having promised to be in London at the time of the arrival
of Mr. and Mrs. Fields, of Boston, who visited Europe, accompanied by
Miss Mabel Lowell (the daughter of the famous American poet) this year.
Besides these friends, Mr. and Mrs. Childs, of Philadelphia--from whom
he had received the greatest kindness and hospitality, and for whom he
had a hearty regard--Dr. Fordyce Barker and his son, Mr. Eytinge (an
illustrator of an American edition of Charles Dickens's works), and Mr.
Bayard Taylor paid visits to Gad's Hill, which were thoroughly enjoyed
by Charles Dickens and his family. This last summer was a very happy
one. He had the annual summer visitors and parties of his friends in the
neighbourhood. He was, as usual, projecting improvements in his beloved
country home; one, which he called the "crowning improvement of all,"
was a large conservatory, which was to be added during the absence of
the family in London in the following spring.