Part 8

“As I have received no account of the former MSS., I have worked night and day to complete this in the prospect that, if you like it, it can be published by the 15th January [? February], I have, I believe, improved upon the finale; I think that now the ending is as good as I could make it. How the original MS.* went astray I cannot ascertain, and it is now needless to inquire; but as I myself saw it put in the Embassy’s bag, and know that it must have arrived at the P.O., I cannot conceive what subsequently became of it. Holdswith is so infernally stupid that, however blameless he may be, I curse him in my own mind for the misfortune, particularly as once before it was through him a nearly similar mischance occurred. The scenes for illustration are not so good, of course, in the concluding No. The best, however, are the whist-party with the king, and O’Leary in prison.

* Some chapters of ‘Harry Lorrequer.’

“I have already explained about the portrait, which was a total failure. Phiz must invent a vignette for the title. I have sat up nearly till morning the last fortnight, and am quite worn out. The chaps, are, however, with a few exceptions, written _de novo_, as my memory completely failed me as to the former ones; but I have read both to the same parties, who concur in preferring the latter. As I shall feel most nervous about the safe arrival of this after my late misfortune, let me hear when it reaches Dublin.”

_To Mr Alexander Spencer._

“Boulevard de l’Observation, _March_ 1, 1839.

“The king has become very unpopular: his busts are pulled down or broken in various places through the country, and many former adherents of the Government speak openly that they would prefer a thousand times to become a province of Spain rather than be a disunited country, as the loss of Limburg and Luxemburg would make them.... Banks are breaking on every side--two at Louvain, one at Antwerp, and one at Liege within the last week,--and Cockerill, an English manufacturer, whose wages to workmen alone amounted to a thousand a-week, is declared bankrupt....

“I saw a private letter from Lord Melbourne to-day, saying that they had got ‘a famous Lord-Lieutenant for Ireland.’...

“I am very anxious about ‘Lorrequer,’ for, unfortunately, like most--I might say all--my resources, they are always digested before being swallowed, and the possibility of any trick [on the part of M’Glashan]--a possibility of which I cannot entirely divest my mind--has harassed me much of late.”

_To Mr Alexander Spencer_.

“Brussels, _March_ 29, 1839.

“... I have been, and am, but very so-so in health latterly. My old enemy, my liver--who has most vulgar prejudices against ‘good cookery’ and French wines--has expressed his discontent most palpably. If I could spare time for a trip over the water the sea would, I think, set all right.

“This place has received a great blow from the late troubles, and, _entre nous_, I should at once take wing for Paris if I had £500 _en poche_, but as I haven’t as many francs, _il faut que j’y reste encore_.”

_To Mr Alexander Spencer._

“Boulevard de l’Observation, _April_ 1839.

“I fear if my letters to you were to rise up in evidence against me, that my cry, like that of the horse-leech, would be found to be one ‘Give! Give!’

“But true it most certainly is my poverty, not my will, consents. The war, the weather, and the taste for Italy (confound these classical publications!) have all conspired to take our English population [away from] here latterly, and I find myself, like the Bank de Belgique, _presque en état de faillite_. Therefore send me the £26 you have; and if Butt has anything due--which I believe and hope he has,--send that also. I shall try if some of the London magazines will not accept contributions from me,--as my ‘Lorrequer’ repute is a little in my favour, now is the time; but for some days past I have been poorly,--my ancient enemy, the liver--who has certain vulgar antipathies to _dindes aux truffes_ and iced champagne--has again been threatening me, and I am obliged to do very little.

“The letter you enclosed me from [ ] was so singular, I am sorry you did not read it. It appears that about four years ago some person gave Mr S. the words and music of ‘The Pope’ as his own, which has since gone through several editions and turned out a safe speculation. Mr S. at length learns that I am the real Simon Pure, and with great honesty and no less courtesy writes me a very handsome--indeed I should not be astray if I said gentlemanlike--letter apologising for his usurpation of my property, and requesting of me to point out any charity to which I would desire a donation to be sent, and that he will do it at once. Kate has just seen a paragraph in ‘The Mail’ which you sent, that offers a good occasion for doing a service, and I think I may as well not let slip the opportunity. With this intent I have written a letter to Mr S., which I leave open for you to read, and, if you approve, forward it to him, pointing out the destination, and leaving the sum of his contribution to himself. If you could conveniently see Mr S. it will be gratifying to me to know how he behaves, for I confess the affair has interested me a good deal; and finally, if the contribution be sent, I should like it to go to [ ] of Sandford Chapel. I have begun a new series in the Mag.,* and have a more lengthy and weightier speculation on the stocks.**

* “Continental Gossiping.”

** ‘Charles O’Malley.’

“I believe M’Glashan will write soon, but in any case let me hear by the 26th (pay-day for my rent). Of course you don’t think of paying for ‘Lorrequer,’ and pray row Curry if your copy is not always an early one. Tell me what you think of the illustrations. I am much pleased with them.”

_To Mr James M’Glashan._

“Brussels, _May_ 3,1839.

“I have not been so well latterly, and am trying to get some one to order me to travel a little. As old Lady B------e always found a doctor who ‘knew her constitution,’ and told her to take ‘Curaçoa’ frequently, I hope to find an intelligent physician too. I have so much material in my head, which would work up advantageously in our Gossipings,--sketches of places, society stories, with some hints upon the Continent that only a residence suggests,--that I have some idea of giving them a much wider range, taking in literature, politics, manners, habits, &c., &c., mingled with sufficient incident and story, all thrown into a somewhat narrative form, and making a book of it. Mortimer O’Sullivan, to whom I mentioned this, if near you, will explain my plan, which he approved--perhaps I should say suggested--when here. I should give every city, most of the travelled routes, and some untravelled ones, sketches of the German universities, songs, &c.; and in fine, make up a slap-dash ramble abroad that would astonish better-behaved and more sedate travellers, keeping our original title; and with the aid of Phiz, who should not want scenes for illustration, I think the thing would do. Of course, it should appear in 1-or 2-vol. form, and if you like may come forth in the Mag. each month. Answer me on this head soon, for if you like it I think I will go to Germany, visit the Spas, and try if we cannot beat that most insufferable humbug and bore, old Grenville. If ‘Harry Lorrequer’ succeed, a new work by the author, as the newspapers have it, should take the tide of public favour at the flood.

“My trip to Ireland is so very contingent upon the people who won’t be sick at present, but are keeping it all for July and August, that I should like to hear from you more fully.”

_To Mr James M’Glashan_.

“_May_ 1839”.

“I have had, since I wrote, an offer, unsolicited on my part, made to me to complete Grenville’s books by a vol. upon the Spas of Belgium and the North of Germany.”

_To Mr James M’Glashan_.

“BRUSSELS, _May_ 1839.

“I send you a short chapter of ‘Continental Gossipings.’

“For the great abruptness of its transitions I shall apologise to you, though not to the public, by mentioning that here the choice of topics is extended, and the opportunity for variety increased; as in a _table d’hôte_ dinner where there are fifty dishes, it is hard if you could not have something to your taste. And to follow up the illustration, if you object to the order of their service, I reply that I have lived long enough in Germany to be quite content at finding puddings precede soups and fish come after cheese. Therefore, you see, I am above or (if you prefer it) beneath criticism.

“‘The Morning Post’ has not said anything as yet. Remind Johnson on this head for me. ‘The Morning Post’ is a tower of strength, and we must contrive to have it with us. I have been so out of health that I can do but little, and have some thoughts of going over to London for the sake of the voyage, and to get presented, in which case I shall have an opportunity of going across and seeing you all in the ‘sweetest city upon the Say.’ Tell me, too, is the story of the Dutch Minister, who was humbugged by false despatches last summer in Paris, known in Ireland? If not, it is too good to lose, and will be _bon_ for our ‘Continental Gossipings.’ This place abounds in munition for the press; but I am so circumstanced I cannot take advantage of it. One week of ‘Confessions’ for Brussels would, however, be worth all Master Harry’s, if he went on for a century.

“The treaty has been peaceably accepted here, and no political excitement of any kind has followed: disturbances are, however, to be feared if anything should occur in France; and it is said, upon good authority, that in such an event Leopold would abdicate. I believe with all my soul he is perfectly sick of the whole concern.

“The French is terribly mangled in ‘Lorrequer.’ Pray have this amended.”

_To Mr James M’Glashan._

“Brussels, May 28,1839.

“Had it not been for your urgent desire upon the subject, the German tour had been long since abandoned by me. The difficulties which I encountered in merely thinking over the plans were such as nearly floored the undertaking, However, after burning four attempts, I send you a few pages of my fifth and last essay, which, if you like, I shall continue. What I claim for myself is simply this, to praise or abuse to the top of my Irish bent everything which comes across me. I don’t care for the _incognito_ further than serves to support the spirit of the thing, but, of course, purporting to be the production of a German, it had better be preserved. ‘Gossips from Abroad’ I think of calling the great unborn. My plan is a tour beginning at Rotterdam, sketching life, manners, &c, as we go on, telling stories, describing places, &c.; up the Rhine to Baden, into Germany, the German cities, spas, universities, the Danube, Saxony, Switzerland, Tyrol, France, Paris, Belgium, and Loire,--in two goodly vols., like ‘Lady Chatterton’ as to size. I could give the more touchy bits for the Mag. _de temps en temps_, and reserve the whole for publication early in the coming year. I have already some of my best material almost ready. So pray write me your views anent this. But pray write soon. My impatience for answers to my letters bodes but ill to your future welfare, if certain _blessings_ invoked by me are to have any chance of accomplishment. My trip to Dublin is not out of the question, but act as if it were, and let me hear from you. I cannot work with spirit or industry till all the detail of arrangement is got done with; and now that my busiest doctoring season is over, I should like to set to work with energy. Your idea of the woodcuts in the page is quite perfect, and I like it amazingly. A boar’s head, a Swiss chalet, and Tyrol pass: a Danube skiff would take well and ornament the book.”

_To Mr James M’Glashan._

“Brussels, _June_ 4, 1839.

“I have so many things to say to you that I treasure them all up for the visit which I have promised myself to Ireland, but which I daily fear can scarcely take place. This is a season in which so many notorieties come through that I have dreaded being away. Polignac, Peel, Lords Brougham and Lyndhurst, the Bishop of Exeter, and several others have come under my hands since last summer, and I cannot with safety or prudence lose the opportunity of making such acquaintances. However, if it be manageable I must do it, for I wish very much to talk over and discuss several plans and projects I have been thinking over. Since I sent off my last MSS. to you a week ago, I have written nothing but recipes of blue pill and senna draughts....

“I have had some very ludicrous mention made to me by a doctor of a certain new publication called ‘Harry Lorreker,’ of which I was, of course, profoundly ignorant, and even in one case borrowed the book. As all the criticisms were not _couleur de rose_, the fun was the greater, as no one saw my blushes, or at least suspected them.

“Once more let me have an early letter. You spoke of going somewhere for health. A few weeks up the Rhine would do you infinite service. Come over to me and I’ll patch you up and give you a route--perhaps go along with you.”

_To Mr James M’Glashan_.

“Brussels, _July_ 1839.

“I now send you the review of Marryat. Let me see a proof if possible. I have done my best to let the Yankees down easy, but I fear it is too bitter. If there be anything amusing for review send it to me,--anything to abuse, anything to tear. I have no temper or spirit just now for encomiums.

“Write to me a long letter, and if there be anything encouraging in the notices, tell me. You know the story of the handsome Frenchwoman to whom Chateaubriand complained that, though ever so clever, flattery of her was too difficult; to which she replied, ‘N’importe: louez-moi toujours.’ So I, without any of the same reason for the practice, would beg of you: Give me sugar-plums, if there be any, for I never felt more in want of a little ‘buttering-up,’ as Mr Daly would call it. Of course, I should recommend both as regards you and myself if the thing was done well--‘Let not the badness of the cheese obliterate the remembrance of the soup and fish.’ So say I. If the public laugh at first, let us not send them home disposed to cry.”

_To Mr James M’Glashan._

“_Aug_. 2, 1839.

“Acting on the opinion contained in your first letter that the matter then published would make eight numbers, I promised four additional ones. Since then I have written one and a half of the new monthly numbers, and find that the whole only makes eight in all, which is a terrible overthrow of all my plans regarding it. The material I have still by me will not by any arrangement extend to more than two numbers. I fear to prolong it beyond that would greatly injure the book as a whole and weaken any interest it may have excited, by what would be called a falling-off. I cannot say how much this has vexed and annoyed me. But I am disposed to doing the best under the circumstances. First, I shall conclude the affair in ten numbers, making you any compensation for the omitted two you think fair, either in money or in any future dealing; secondly, I will write the two additional numbers as well as I can, which will, however, involve a change of plot, &c., &c, that I cannot but deprecate as regards the fortune of the book as a whole.”

_To Mr James M’Glashan_.

“_Aug_. 6,1839.

“The more I think of it, the more I feel persuaded that we had better close [‘Lorrequer’] with ten numbers. The plot will be original, the effect not weakened, the volume sufficiently large, and the public less disposed to grumble, which, for all our sakes, is something. I have had so much worry here with sick brats and patients of all kinds, that I am fairly knocked up. Besides that, there is not an old fool sent by that arch-charlatan Grenville to drink Spa waters in Germany, who does not expect me to have an analysis of every dirty spring or fetid puddle from Pyrmont to the Pyrenees; and my whole mornings are passed discussing chalybeates and sulphurets with all the scarlet and pimpled faces that Harrogate and Buxton have turned off incurable. There is only one comfort in all this. However imaginary the ills they suffer on leaving England, by the time they reach Brussels on their way back, few of them boast constitutions strong enough not to be suffering from the fat, grease, filth, and acidity of German cookery, and they all, more or less, are in need of me before they get their passports from Antwerp. The English who travel--God bless them!--are an amiable class, and they seldom fail to bring along with them for the journey some family ailment which French wines and high living combine to make troublesome. A constant influx of these pleasant people keeps me here, but if I can manage it I mean to bolt soon. Every _table d’hôte_ in this city swarms with the most unlicked cubs of our country, speaking neither German nor French--a few English. They disgust me for the false impression they convey to foreigners of what English gentlemen really are. What they come for, and where they go, I cannot say. It is impossible that they can be escaping for debt, for no one could possibly trust them; and they cannot be swindlers, for swindlers are men of captivating address and prepossessing manners. I rejoice to think that they are poisoned by the living, sent wrong in diligences, cheated by the money-changers, and bullied by the police.”

_To Mr James M’Glashan._

“Brussels, _Aug_. 90,1839.

“Your letter of the 24th has arrived, together with the packet containing the review of Marryat, dated 8th ult., since which date it has been following his Excellency the Ambassador through the Highlands, and enjoying the sports of the season at the Duke of Athol’s.

“I have just arranged about the portrait.* You shall have the sketch next week, and had better get it engraved. He will be much more Harry Lorrequer than Charles Lever. However, that will be all the better.

* This was not the portrait prefixed to ‘Jack Hinton,’ but a vignette 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 more _en 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 been _rayther_ thorny 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.