I write you ten lines in the greatest bustle that ever man was in to
tell you that the death of poor Sir Charles Paget turns me out of my
house. This is not of necessity indeed, for I have a lease of it for
some time yet unexpired, but Lady Paget sent to ask if I would let her
come in again and I felt not in my heart to refuse the widow under
such circumstances. I go before the first of May, but I do sincerely
wish that between this and then I may have the pleasure of seeing you
here. I think that you will believe me to be a sincere man; a
tolerably bitter enemy as long as I think there is cause for enmity, a
very pertinacious friend when I do like. From this place we go to
London, or rather to Brompton, Mrs. James’s sister who is in town for
the winter, having lent her her house there, for a short time. It is
called the Hermitage and is nearly opposite Trevor Square, which
perhaps you may know. Do not suffer yourself or Mrs. Watts to fancy
that it will put us to any inconvenience to receive you here if you
can manage it, as I assure you it will not. I sell all my horses by
auction on the 25th and you could help to bid them up. After we quit
the Hermitage, we have not the slightest idea where we shall go but
there at least I trust to see you if you cannot leave your weighty
employments ere then. I was delighted with your parthian shots, which
were exquisitely truly aimed and though the arrows were not poisoned
by your hand, the corruption of the flesh in which they have stuck,
depend upon it, will produce gangrene. You were made for a reviewer:
only you are honest. How was it else that I escaped even when we did
not fully understand each other?
I have told the booksellers to send you a little pamphlet on the
American Boundary question. It is merely a brief and unpretending
summary of the early history of that bone of contention, only worth
your looking into as a saving of time.
Pray let me hear from you a few words and believe me with Mrs. James’s
and my own best Compliments to Mrs. Watts.
Yours ever
G. P. R. JAMES
P. S. I am making a little collection of my works in their new edition
for Mrs. Watts’s book-case and I send _Richelieu_ with this. It is odd
Bulwer should have just published a play under the same title when the
third edition of mine had been announced for months. I have not seen
his, but I should like to compare the two.
ALARIC A. WATTS ESQRE
Crane Court
Fleet Street
2 VERULAM PLACE HASTINGS
10th January 1840