Charles Lever, His Life in His Letters, Vol. I

by Charles James Lever

V. LETTERS FROM BRUSSELS 1837-1842

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“16 Rue Ducale, Brussels, May 12, 1837.

“We reached this on Monday afternoon, having had a most agreeable journey through England, which we all bore admirably, and after a passage of twenty-two hours reached Antwerp so little fatigued that we at once set out for Brussels, where we had the pleasure to find that our house was ready for us and perfectly prepared for our occupation. We at once drove thither, and have avoided all hotel expenses, and have the additional comfort of being at once at home after so much journeying. I have, of course, but little to communicate of Brussels since my arrival, save that I find myself as safe as ever in the estimation of the English here, and am already hard at work. Lady Faulkner and several of my old attaches have again sent for me, and although the permis cannot be obtained sooner than August, if then, I have every hope that I escape (some time) any molestation. My only loss on the road was a carpet-bag containing all my groom’s clothes, and amongst them a new suit of dark-grey livery, for which I had just paid £4, 10s. and was never worn. These were left behind in the George Hotel, Dale Street, Liverpool, and although I have written about it I have not received any answer, and fear it is irretrievably gone. If there could be found any means of getting at the matter through Dublin, I would be extremely glad,—for if the bag were forwarded to the Burlington Hotel, Burlington Street, London, addressed to me, Brussels, by the Victoria steamer for Antwerp, it would still reach me and save me some money, and my man much raggedness.

“Mrs Innes is quite correct in her estimate of the Tighes in one respect, for previous to my going to Ireland they employed me several times but never fee’d [me], and they have no possible influence here, and are not in any society. I know all the best English already, and shall always be able to get my introductions through Sir Hamilton Seymour. I am quite certain, if permitted to practise, that I shall have the leading place; but however pleasant and agreeable, it never can be anything but a very small matter as regards income.

“This day has brought me my tenth patient, so you see I am not idling. Lord Stafford has just sent for me, and I have been told that the Prince of Hesse (Philipstad) will consult me to-morrow. He is the brother of the Queen of England, and has great influence.

“Would you tell M’Glashan that I have got ‘Rory O’More’ from the author, and he shall have the review* for July No.”

* A review of ‘Rory O’More’ appeared in ‘The Dublin
University Magazine’ for January 1838, but, judging it by
its illiberality, I should say the review was not written by
Lever.—E. D.

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Brussels, August 22, 1837.

“One of our Irish residents here going over for the ‘rents,’ gives me the opportunity to send a few and very hurried lines to you. I have been jogging on à l’ordinaire, nothing new or wonderful occurring except my being fined for prescribing sans le permis, and my having received in reply to a memorial a most civil response from his majesty, that from the representations made to him from such high and influential quarters on my professional capabilities, every facility shall be afforded me in submitting myself to the Jury d’Exam., when my little acquaintance with the French language shall be no barrier to my undergoing the tests prescribed. So far well, and I now await for the conference which is to pronounce upon my fitness to practise.

“I have been most fortunate in all my cases, and my name is at the top of the wheel, so that if I pass this Exam., whatever success Brussels can yield I have every prospect of enjoying. Nothing but the small scale of remuneration is against the place being a good locality for a physician, and even already I have succeeded in getting ten francs per visit, which, if eventually adopted, would give me a very fair professional income. I am completely among the corps diplomatique of all nations, and through the unceasing attentions of Sir H. Seymour my position is a most gratifying one. To his house I have the entrée at all hours, and to his box at the opera I am at all times admis. We ride out with him, and pass a couple of hours every day in his society. Kate and the babes are doing well, and I am most grateful at my emancipation from [drudgery].”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Brussels, Rue Ducale, Aug. 29, 1837.

“Your ever warm interest for your friend is my safeguard that you will not be bored by so soon getting another letter from me; but, besides, I cannot forbear telling you that I have at last obtained the permis to practise, having this day passed an examination before the Medical profession who represent to the Minister the capacity of the candidate. So far, therefore, all is settled; and I hope and trust no further difficulties be in my way towards a tolerable success in Brussels. My practice lately has been less from the great emptiness of the city,—every one worth anything having fled up the Rhine, into Germany, or to Wiesbaden, Carlsbad, &c. But I am told that in the winter I shall have as much as I can attend to. All the high are exclusively with me, and I am extending my lines among the foreign missions—Austrian, Brazilian, &c. The king has spoken most favourably about me, and I am daily expecting a call to Court. I believe I mentioned that I was fined. The penalty was remitted by his majesty; yet law expenses, fees to the Procureur du Roi, &c., make the affair amount to 500 francs (£20). This was a bore. Still, I made more than that considerably by the delinquency, so that after all I am no loser. I am dreadfully at a loss for a good groom that can ride [? postilion] occasionally (the latter is not a sine quâ non), who is light weight, young, not tall, and perfectly sober. I brought a good one over here,—excellent in every respect,—but the cheapness of drink has made him an inveterate drunkard, and he neglects everything. If you could send anything like this (only sober by all means), I would most willingly pay his way out here. His only [? duty] is to mind two horses and ride and drive occasionally, and that very seldom. He has no housework to do. Wages 10 guineas a-year, all livery, and about £3 more for the manure. My wife and weans are quite well, and the former delighted with Brussels. Mr Waller is a great friend of ours. We dined with him and his wife to-day, and in fact we are as intimate with all the Embassy folk as possible. I should indeed be a very discontented fellow if I was not quite satisfied with my fortune here; and now that all minor obstacles are surmounted, have really everything our own way.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Brussels, Nov. 7, 1837.

“My practice goes on favourably, my daily receipts ranging from two to three pounds usually....

“The D. U. M. people write so pressingly to me that I am once more in harness.... I have only my late evenings unoccupied. I find it sufficiently wearisome and fatiguing, but I am resolved to leave no shaft unworked that promises ore....

“Our gay season has not yet begun. Still, we have Saturday soirees at the Embassy, to which we always go, and occasional petits diners with the chiefs of the corps diplomatique,—very pleasant and lively.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“16 Rue Ducale, Brussels, Nov. 1837.

“.... I am quite sure of Mr Butt’s being a safe and punctual person, and God forgive me if I wrong Mr Crowther, but I have not the same good opinion of him. Coûte que coûte.

“It will not ruin me, and it’s only, as Dr Bailey said, going up so many more flights of stairs to feel pulses, though here in Brussels that is rather a laborious task.

“I have been thinking very much latterly of future provision for my family, and am divided between the idea of insurance and funding, and although the former has undoubted advantages to one like myself, ne possède pas un grand talent de l’économie, yet depending mainly, as I must do, on the fluctuating resources of a profession, I hesitate about commencing what I feel myself eventually unable to continue; and I think, under such circumstances, that laying by the accruing rents of the houses—and, if I can afford it now and then, an occasional £20 or £30 to make up a sum to lodge—affords, perhaps, the best means in my power to accomplish my object. In this way I might be able to put by close upon £100 per annum—at least, such is my present calculation....

“The writing for the Mag. is, as you hint, a very laborious finale to a day’s work; but although I find myself somewhat fagged, I feel I must do my best when the time offers, for although money comes in fast upon me, it equally rapidly takes wings to itself afterwards.

“Brussels is now beginning its gaiety, and is nearly as full as it can be. No kind of house in a good quarter, and tolerably well garni, can be had under £250 to £300 per annum, and many are as high as £500. Otherwise—clothes excepted—everything is cheap. We have a large Irish colony who are, I regret to say, not the élite of the land....

“We continue to have Saturday soirees at the Embassy; and most of the best people receive company uninvited during each evening of the week. As to climate, the heat and cold are both greater than with you; but, thanks to foreign liberté, one may wear any species of clothing he deems most conducive to comfort: furs are in daily use. The ladies dress most splendidly here,—embroidered velvets with gold and embossed satins are the only thing worn in evening costume. The opera is very good. ‘The Huguenots,’ lately produced, is splendid, and brings great houses.

“I have three horses—my two Irish, and a small doctor’s cob I got for a debt from Lord Wm. Paget.... My house is most comfortably—even handsomely—furnished, as Haire will tell you, and I have only to wish for, in haberdasher phrase, ‘a continuance of public favours.’

“The children are both most healthy. My boy is a very stout fellow, and I think prettier than his sister. I sent a silhouette of them to the Bakers a few days since. I hope you may see Haire—he is a really kind fellow, and I know you will like him. He saw a good deal of what was going on here in his short stay, and can tell you ma position actuelle better than anything I can write.

“Among bien distingués here we have the son of Tippo Saib. He speaks English fluently, and in his oriental costume forms a grand lion for our soirees.

“You can form some idea of the extent of the English colony here, on hearing that we have two churches at which service is performed twice on Sundays to large congregations, and that two English newspapers are edited and published here,—they contain copious extracts of every political change going on in England.

“You have heard, I suppose, of the great gossip of the day—Lady Lincoln’s affair with her doctors. The real case appears to be a most infamous one,—nothing less than this: these two Polish M.D.‘s here have threatened, unless they receive 400,000 francs, to disclose certain secrets her ladyship unfortunately let slip in the ravings of her insanity during her illness. Lord Lincoln resents the iniquitous demand, and the affair is to come before Le Tribunal. Anything so thoroughly blackguard I never heard of before. But [it is] a salutary lesson to the English for their mad preference of foreign [? quacks] and humbugs to the highly-educated medical men of Ireland and England....

“I don’t know if I told you that I have been appointed Medical Examiner to the United Kingdom London Assurance Co., and have daily proofs of its value....

“I received a very wicked and flattering letter from Spencer Knox, the son of the late Bishop of Derry, who had heard of me from Lord Westminster’s missing patient....

“If, instead of starving upon dispensaries in Ireland, a few of the best young medicals would only learn French, there are some capital openings here. At Bruges, at the moment,—one of the cheapest places on the Continent,—from £400 to £500 per annum could be made by a properly qualified man,—and no one offers. I have been sent for thirty miles (to Ghent), and there is in that city a large English residency sans médecin.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Rue Ducale, Brussels, Dec. 29, 1837.

“My practice here still continues to increase, though now I must not look to much extension to come. I can live, if this last, by my trade.

“I did not send any MS. to [D. U. M.] for January, for I was greatly overworked, but will despatch an article on Tuesday the 9th in time to appear next month (Feb.) Pray say so (to Butt). I shall endeavour to make it a sheet....

“The gaiety of this place has begun, and balls and soirees are given every night. I am hoping to be presented at Court next week, but a difficulty lies in the way—my never having been at St James’s. This may be, I trust, got over, for being presented would be of service to me....

“The standing army here, with a population of only 4,000,000, is nearly 100,000 men, fully equipped in every respect. What would Mr Hume say to this?

“The people themselves are universally well disposed—obeying the law, and most industrious in their habits. Crime is but little known, and capital offences almost never occur. Through the streets of the large capital at night any one may walk, not only safe from personal risk, but even from the least insult. An improper expression I never heard yet, though [abroad] at all hours, and yet there is neither a watchman nor night gens d’arme in the whole city. And, strange as it may seem, though a bottle of Geneva costs but about 7d., drunkenness is rare except amongst the English servants, who are the greatest wretches unhanged. The theatres are three—the Opera, the [? Vaudeville], and a species of circus like Astley’s. All are good of their kind, and always crowded. The weather here is beautiful—more like spring than winter, but I believe it is unusually mild for the climate. An American Minister and Swedish have both arrived since I have been here. All, so far as I can see, promises the stability of the present state of things. The country possesses enormous resources, and notwithstanding the late revolution—always an expensive luxury—the debt is but trifling. Railroads are being constructed with great rapidity between the large towns which, from the flat surface of the country and its immense productiveness, must be in every instance profitable speculations. As to Society: it ranks higher than any other capital on the Continent except Paris, being crowded with persons of independent fortune, who are most hospitably disposed. The king himself does everything possible to make his Court agreeable.... A great many thanks for ‘The Evening Mail.’ The puffs always make me go on when the stimulus of money fails.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Brussels, Feb. 1838.

“Although Brussels fulfils all my expectations, I might be ultimately tempted to try my luck in London or Paris [as a medical man].... Attending to an outbreak of measles has prevented me from sending my usual contribution to the Mag.... I have definitely raised my fees from 5 francs to 10 francs—double that of any other English physician, and five times the fee of the Belgian practitioner.... The sister of the Ambassador has recovered under my hands from what was universally believed to be a fatal case of spasmodic croup.... There is nothing but gaiety and going out here every night, and I am half wishing for summer to have a little rest and quietness.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Brussels, Rue Ducale, March 28, 1838.

“I may be in London in the summer to be presented. Which I must do as a preliminary to being introduced to the Court here....

“I am carrying ahead with a very strong hand, and have little dances weekly. I had three earls and two ambassadors on Tuesday, and am keeping that set exclusively in my interest.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Brussels, July 13, 1838.

“The excessive heat (102 in the shade) has been such that I have been obliged to send my children to the country about nine miles off—a pretty village between Waterloo and [ ]. Kate and I are going to-morrow on a little tour along the Meuse by Namur (shades of my Uncle Toby!), and shall be away for about a fortnight.... I drive my own horses, and merely bring Kate and a groom.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Boulevards de l’Observation, Brussels, Sept. 13, 1838.

“I have been obliged to change my residence, very much in some respects to my disadvantage, inasmuch as my present one is vis-à-vis to the Embassy, and consequently inviting a daily, almost hourly, intercourse there, besides giving me a kind of publicity. My new residence is No. 33 Boulevarde de l’Observation, a very good house—four rooms on each floor, with garden, coach-house, and five-stalled stable. It has been the residence of the Portuguese Ambassador up to this time, and is in perfect repair.... Mr Dumont, the Irish Under Secretary, has been a patient of mine for some time past. We are great friends. He has dined here several times with me, and if anything medical official is in the new Poor-Law Bill, I think I should have an offer of it at least.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“33 Boulevard de l’Observation, Nov. 12, 1838.

“The fatal facility of the Embassy bag for troubling one’s friends—as you have cause to feel—induces me to bore you with a commission, the performance of which I cannot spare you, for I have no other friend to whom I can commit myself et mes affaires at this juncture.

“I have just received a letter from Mortimer O’Sullivan, to whose management I had entrusted an arrangement with M’Glashan concerning the sale of a republished edition of ‘Harry Lorrequer,’ and who from unavoidable absence is compelled to leave the negotiation on your shoulders....

“M’Glashan proposes (O’S. writes to me) to publish H. L. in monthly numbers, with illustrations like the ‘Pickwick,’ in preference to a 2-vol. form; in which I thoroughly coincide. He also desires to have an answer from me as to my plan regarding the length of the work and my expectations as to payment. To which I reply that I am willing to give twelve monthly numbers of the size of ‘Pickwick’ (i.e., two sheets each), those already in the D. U. M. going as far as the Mag. (for £150), and thus concluding the work in these twelve numbers.

“I suppose, from a rough calculation, that one sheet and a half of magazine-matter will equal two sheets of octavo like Pickwick; but at all events I shall be prepared to fulfil my intended extent, no matter how far short they may come.

“O’Sullivan proposed to M’Glashan the common bargain of ‘half-profits and security against loss,’ to which M’G. replied that he would accede, but proposed a purchase. So do I. Therefore it is a mere question of money between us.

“It is right I should mention that the copyright is with me by express agreement, so that no question of the Magazine interest exists.

“Now I should spare you all this but that if I propose at once to M’Glashan, and he objects, the scheme ends, whereas I leave it to you to make the best bargain you can, coming even as low as £100 if necessary,—not lower, because I have reason to know that the thing is wished for by him and expected to do well. Butt has confessed fully as much already in his letters. If he is willing to give £100 I should be very glad to leave the remaining £50 dependent upon the sale,—a very frequent bargain—i.e., if the work succeed the £50 is paid, otherwise not.

“I shall also not give the concluding Nos. in the Magazine, thereby reserving all interest in the conclusion for the new publication. This only, however, if it appears proper so to do to the proprietors of the Magazine, who, having paid me liberally, shall be dealt liberally with by me.

“For all the details of the publication regarding correcting for press, &c., I have peculiar facilities of transmission through the Irish office which will save heavy postage to both parties. This is of consequence, as I must correct the press myself. This I should insist upon. I can be ready for the first No. for January, but as illustrations will take time, February would be soon enough to begin—and it is a better publishing month. This I leave to M’Glashan.

“I shall not send anything further to the Magazine until I receive a reply, and have only to add that I hope you may succeed in making some bargain for me, for I want money most considerably. If you can hasten the arrangement, tant mieux, for I must remain idle till I hear from you.

“Lord Douro, who has been breakfasting here the last two mornings, has promised me a frank, but I am afraid to delay in sending you this in the hope of seeing him.

“I have only to [? warn] you, as a last instruction, that M’G. is a devil of a screw, and will fight to the last for low terms. Therefore be prepared to threaten him with Bentley, Saunders, and Ottley, &c. For I know he wishes the thing, and will not easily relinquish it.

“The local Irish papers have called out for a republication, and that may also be urged with him. These are my last words—and God bless you and yours!”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“33 Boulevard de l’Observation, Dec 1838.

“I have just despatched my acceptance of M’Glashan’s offer—which I am well content with—and shall lose no time in setting about my part in the affair. I hope to be ready for March next. I do not know if any more formal document of agreement be requisite between us than his proposal and my consent as expressed by letter. But as publishers are rather slippery gentlemen, [I] think it would be safer to have a regularly-drawn contract on each side for signature. This I know to be the usual mode, for I have seen such issuing from Bentley and the other great publishing people.

“I am very desirous that the illustrations should be by Cruikshank, not Phiz. Pray try to accomplish this for me. Much if not all the success to be hoped for depends on these [illustrations]....

“M’Glashan speaks of an introductory chapter. I think that anything of this sort had better be deferred for the last No., as in the ‘Pickwick’; but on this point I shall be guided by him.

“M’G. desires that each No. should be, as it were, complete in itself. Now until I know the quantity of matter requisite for one I cannot effect this. Therefore let him as soon as possible have a hundred struck off for me, and this will be a guide for the others. Of course M’G. considers as his exclusive province all the details of getting up the work, but I hope he intends putting me in a good coat, as I promise myself, if fortunate, another appearance on the boards.

“I wish above all that he could put me in relations with the illustrator for the scenes to be selected as subjects: this is most material. John [or Johnston] speaks most kindly upon the propriety of not touching the proceeds of this affair. I shall do my endeavours thereunto, but for the present I am rather lower in funds than usual. My furnishing has cost more than double what I anticipated, and I must call upon you in January some time to send me £40 or £50. Butt owes me something—I believe about £20—for the Mag. The exact sum I know not, but he can tell you; and the affair had better be wound up, as he has left the concern and gone to the English Bar, where, by the bye, the highest expectations are formed of him.

“We have been giving weekly soirees to the great guns here—all the different corps diplomatique and lords and marquises without end. I have a very handsome house, and the [? entertaining] has been done admirably well. Johnston was here one night. The thing is cheaply done here,—a well-lit room, plenty of servants (to be had for the night), ices, lemonade glacé, and stirrup-cup of spiced wine at 12 o’clock,—and that completes the expenditure. And you can have fifty people—and we never had less—for about five pounds sterling. They all so understand the art of mere chatting that music and dancing would be thought a regular bore; and except one whist-table for the dowager ladies of honour, nothing else is needed. Without witnessing it one cannot think how well these affairs always go off, and the din and clamour of fifty people, talking in about half the tongues of Europe, is about as exciting a scene in a brilliant salon as can be conceived. Lord Ely and Lord James Hay and Lord Douro are here every Monday; and amongst our notorieties we have Napoleon, Bassano of Russian memory, the Russian Ambassador, the Man of the Treaty of Tilsit, and Jerome Buonaparte. Sir H[amilton] Seymour and our Embassy never fail us, and we are really at the top of the ladder. I confess I am proud of this for one reason: hitherto the doctor has been regularly kept down amongst English society in Brussels, and it took a good deal of management to break the old chain of habit and fight out a place for him.

“If our Lorrequer scheme goes on favourably I hope to visit Ireland in the summer for a day or two.

“As time presses for our publishing, pray write as soon as you can and tell me all you can learn about M’Glashan’s views. Since I have begun this, the news—alas! but too true—has reached me of the failure of La Banque de Belgique. All my ready money happens to be in their notes; about £40 is thus, if not entirely lost, at least so far jeopardised as to be trembled for.”

To Mr James M’Glashan.

“33 Boulevard de l’Observation, Jan. 4, 1839.

“How many plates do you propose giving to each No.? If possible, say three.

“Let me also hear what dress we are to appear in. There is a great deal in the externals of a book as well as of a gentleman.”

To Mr James M’Glashan.

“Jan. 11,1839.

“H. K. Brown has not yet written to me, and I regret it the more, because if I knew the scenes he selected, I might have benefited by his ideas and rendered them more graphic as an author corrects his play by seeing a dress rehearsal.

“Has Phiz any notion of Irish physiognomy? for this is most important. If not, and as ‘Lorrequer’ abounds in specimens, pray entreat him to study the Tail* when they meet in February: he can have nothing better, if not too coarse for his purpose. Don’t fear for the conclusion. I think I can manage it safely; and if the company would like to sup where they have dined, I shall keep a broil for their amusement. My intention is, if all prospers, to bring ‘Harry’ to Canada in the next series, and as I have been there, something can be made of it. This is, however, for after consideration.

* This was an epithet applied to the “Repealers,” who
followed O’Connell’s leadership.—E. D.

“I have been so hard worked here that I have been obliged to sit up at night to transcribe, and ‘Harry Lorrequer’ has kept me from dinners and evening-parties innumerable.

“How will the press treat us? Conciliate by every means the editors. Upon my conscience, I think I should have a soirée of devils, if I was among you, to stand well with the men of ink. Write to me soon. Your suggestions are most useful, and keep up my pluck and stimulate my activity.

“The illustrations in No. 1 are very good, but why is Lorrequer at the supper at Father Malachy’s made so like Nicholas Nickleby? That is unfortunate, and every one sees it at a glance. All plagiarisms in the book, I beg to say, are my prerogatives.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Brussels, Jan. 1839.

“....In addition to the English leaving this and leaving me without occupation, I should lose my little property of chattels that I have gathered about me....

“The next few days may see me on the road: if so, I know not which water I shall ask my passport for.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Brussels, Feb. 12, 1838.

“Matters look somewhat better here the last few days, but still the massing of troops continues, and already about 100,000 men and a large artillery force are assembled upon the Holland-Belgium frontier. The treaty, though signed by the King of Holland, has not been acceded to by the Belgians, and while the present excitement continues it is not probable that anything decisive will be done by the Chambers. In fact, so strong is the antipathy to the Dutch and so great the influence of the priests, that a war would be universally popular among the mass of the people; and the anti-war party in the Chamber are consequently fearful of expressing their opinions, well knowing that, let matters go how they will, they at least are very likely to be pillaged by the mob.

“The last move of the Government here is certainly, to say the least, a suspicious one. General Skrzynecki, the Pole who commanded at Ostrolenka, has been appointed a general in the Belgian service. The circumstances are worth mention. This Pole, it appears, when the defeat of his countrymen took place, fled with a very considerable force and took refuge in a portion of Poland under the Austrian rule, into which the Russians, who are no respecters of etiquette, would have followed had not Austria and Prussia at once interfered and guaranteed to Russia that they would be responsible for him and his officers never entering a foreign service, nor in any wise ‘troubling the peace of Europe.’ Skrzynecki consequently obtained his freedom and retired to Prague (in the Austrian territory), where he has since lived on his parole. Now comes the worst of the story. Leopold and his agents have induced him to break faith, and come here at this moment to take command, for which he has talents, and his reputed bigotry as a Catholic renders him very suitable,—and the result is that the Ministers of Austria and Prussia have both demanded their passports and left Brussels. This tells very ill for Leopold, who at the best shows himself the mere tool of the Catholic party who have taken this man up. The Chamber has been prorogued till the 4th March, but I know from private sources that it is the king’s intention to convoke them in the coming week, and, if possible, carry the acceptance of the Twenty-four Articles. If he fail, I then suppose we may have a renewed negotiation, but as there is no prospect of them getting more favourable terms, they must either accede at last or try the chances of a war, which cannot fail, once begun, to become a European one....

“Tom Steele is now here offering his services and 10,000 wild Irish to the Belgian Government in case of war. However, I think we may have no need for either....

“A French army of 48,000 men are now on our frontier, and a very large force of Prussians, with 10,000 troops from the German confederates, occupy the others. These, with an English fleet ready to set sail for the Scheldt, are the means in store for us—if the treaty be rejected.”

To Mr James M’Glashan.

“Brussels, Feb. 16,1838.

“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.

“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 my grand 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, Dec 18, 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 as gage d’amitie between 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 stupidest gauche that 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 you en courant to 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, malgré gout 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, Dec 28, 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 £100 en 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. perfectly au fait to 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, May 16, 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 what I feel 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.

“June 22, 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 the pros and cons, 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.

June 1841.

“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 the feuilletons of 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.

“July 2,1841.

“I send you some feuilletons which, 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, July 3, 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, vice a 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, July 19, 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 in feuilletons on 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 the début of 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 an exceedingly English young 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, the incognito that you deem of service (as John does) is not what you suppose. It is only a nom 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.

[ [!-- H2 anchor --] ]