letters, some of them, I like very much: but I had some curiosity to know how others would like them.
To W. B. Donne.
19 Charlotte St., FitzRoy Square,
London.
[18 Jan. 1850.]
Dear Donne,
. . . After I left Richmond, whence I last wrote to you, I went to Bedford, where I was for five weeks: then returned to spend Christmas at Richmond: and now dawdle here hoping to get some accursed lawyers to raise me some money on what remains of my reversion. This they can do, and will do, in time: but, as usual, find it their interest to delay as much as possible.
I found A. Tennyson in chambers at Lincoln’s Inn: and recreated myself with a sight of his fine old mug, and got out of him all his dear old stories, and many new ones. He is re-publishing his Poems, the Princess with songs interposed. I cannot say I thought them like the old vintage of his earlier days, though perhaps better than other people’s. But, even to you, such opinions appear blasphemies. A. T. is now gone on a visit into Leicestershire: and I miss him greatly. Carlyle I have not seen; but I read an excellent bit of his in the Examiner, about Ireland.
Thackeray is well again, except not quite strong yet. Spedding is not yet returned: and I doubt will not return before I have left London.
I have been but to one play; to see the Hypocrite, and Tom Taylor’s burlesque [254a] at the Strand Theatre. It was dreadfully cold in the pit: and I thought dull. Farren almost unintelligible: Mrs. Glover good in a disagreeable part. [254b] Diogenes has very good Aristophanic hits in it, as perhaps you know: but its action was rather slow, I thought: and I was so cold I could not sit it half through.
To F. Tennyson.
[Written from Bramford? E. F. G. was staying at this time with the Cowells.]