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

by Charles James Lever

“My dear Sir,—I have just seen the advt. of contents of ‘University’ for June, among which the ‘Post Mortem’ holds honourable station, and hope it may merit it. I write these few lines hurriedly to ask if you will spare space for a ‘story’ * in your July number, as I have one ready, and will send it if you desire. As I am going with Maxwell on an expedition on Thursday, will you let me know your reply before then?

* “The Emigrants Tale.”

“Maxwell and Bentley have been sparring, so you are not to expect the review of ‘Picton,’ as the wild sportsman is in great dudgeon with the mighty publisher.

“Whenever anything can be got from him worth your while, I shall press for it. At present he is toiling for the ‘Bivouac,’ which is to appear immediately.”

The four following letters written to Spencer afford interesting glimpses of the young doctor’s life at this period:—

"PORTSTEWART, June 13, 1836.

“I have reaped no small self-praise from the circumstance that I have not been a bore to you for nearly three months, for it only wants a few days of that time since we parted in Dublin. How I have existed in that space I can scarcely say, but one fact is undoubted—not from the proceeds of my profession.

“There has been nothing to do here for the whole cordon sanitaire of medicals that invests this and the surrounding country; and idleness—unbroken idleness—has been our portion, and you well know, my dear Saunders,* the far niente is not dolce when it is compulsory, and thus, if I have been working little I have grieved much.

* “Saunders” was a nickname given by Lever to Spencer.

“It was, as far as occupation is concerned, fortunate that I became a scribbler, but in respect to money the Currys are slowest of the slow, and so I am again on my beam-ends for cash, with some petty debts boring me to boot. I have applied to the Currys, but not so pressingly as my circumstances demand, for a man does not willingly expose his poverty to strangers; and it is rank bad policy—if avoidable—for a poor author to confess his poverty to his publisher.