I should have written to you before now but for constant and arduous
occupation. . . . I am very glad to hear of the success of your
reading, and still more glad that you went at it in downright earnest.
I should never have made my success in life if I had been shy of taking
pains, or if I had not bestowed upon the least thing I have ever
undertaken exactly the same attention and care that I have bestowed
upon the greatest. Do everything at your best. It was but this last
year that I set to and learned every word of my readings; and from ten
years ago to last night, I have never read to an audience but I have
watched for an opportunity of striking out something better somewhere.
Look at such of my manuscripts as are in the library at Gad's, and
think of the patient hours devoted year after year to single
lines. . . .
Ever, my dear Harry,
Your affectionate Father.
"FAREWELL? MY BLESSING SEASON THIS IN THEE"
[Dickens's last child, Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens, was born in 1852.
At sixteen he went to Australia, with this parting word from his
father:]