Charles Lever, His Life in His Letters Volume Ii Part 3

"I see by 'The Telegraph' that Lord Clarendon has joined the Government and Stansfield left. There is a twofold game in that, for I don't despair of seeing them beaten if the Queen does not put pressure on Lord Derby, for there is a sentiment in his cla.s.s that, with regard to the Crown, rises above all party considerations, and represents that old feudal feeling by which n.o.bles stood round the monarchy at any personal loss or peril.

"That letter to 'The Times' about the Italian Government seizing Garibaldi's balance at his banker's is all rot. The Government simply sequestrated a revolutionary fund subscribed by revolutionists for public disturbance, and openly, flagrantly so done. Why will _patriots_ never be truthful?"

_To Dr Burbidge_.

"Casa Capponi, _Thursday_, 10 [1864].

"These questionable publishers who say, 'Buy my share and I'll give you a book,' represent the contract by which Sanders obtained Marola. That is, _he_ bought the shares--viz., the house, and _they_ gave him the book, meaning the 'a.r.s.enal.' All fair and right so far! But n.o.body ever supposed that the share was connected with the book, had a market value, or was worth more to a purchaser than its price as a _share_. Now the opposite is precisely the mistake Sanders has fallen into. The rent of Marola represents in pounds the eagerness of M. Bolla to sign a certain agreement, but _I_ have no such eagerness; for _me_ no docks are digged, no mud excavated, no roads cut up and trees cut down; _I_ have no interest in all the filth, dirt, drunkenness, or small a.s.sa.s.sinations introduced into a once lonely spot; I neither derive ten per cent profits or sixty per cent frauds. I have no part in the honest gains of Sanders or in the wholesale robberies of Bolla,--I merely want a house at the price of a house. Hence to pay 60 to 70 for a two-floor villa, furnished!--three chairs and the bath,--is certes too dear, not to add the Mackie difficulty. I have nothing definitely about my villa here, nor need I for some days.

"Is the wretched little toy-house under the Cappucines still unlet? and if so, what rent does M. Torri expect for it?--for, though _he_ has _no straw_, he has more than the equivalent in the pestilent rascality of a true Spezzino.

"I hear from 'The Morning Post' people that Pam has at length got the Emperor's consent to be warlike. _A la remarque de la France_ is a tune we know better nowadays than 'Rule Britannia.' The story goes: _he_, L.

N., is to have the _freyen deutschen Rhein_, and we are to be permitted to fill up again M. Lessep's ca.n.a.l at Suez--_suum caique._

"Who is to say _l'Alliance_ brings no gain? One clears a river, t'other fills a drain.

"It is absurd to revile--as 'The Times' does--the Derbys for not announcing a policy. It is only a wise precaution in a bather who has once been robbed to hide his clothes when he next goes for a swim. This is all Dizzy is doing.

"I am now in a rare mess about 'Luttrell,' and cannot write a word."

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Croce di Malta, Spezzia, _April_ 7, 1864.

"I now send you the June 'Tony,' anxious to hear that you are satisfied.

If I bore you by my insistence in this way, my excuse is that just as a sharp-flavoured wine turns quickest to vinegar, all the once lightness of heart I had has now grown to a species of irritable anxiety. Of course it is the dread a man feels of growing old lest he become more feeble than he even suspects, and I confess to you that I can put up with my shaky knees and swelled ankles better than I can with my shortcomings in brain matters. At all events, I am doing as well as I can, and quite ready to be taught to do better."

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Casa Capponi, Florence, _April_ 11, 1864.

"Only think of finding in 'The Galignani' yesterday this paragraph about Flynn. I send it to you, leaving it entirely to your choice to insert in next O'D. It has _this_ merit, that it will serve to show O'D. is not _all imaginary_, but that it deals with real rogues as well as with men in buckram suits.

"I have got an 'O'Dowd' in my head that I think will amuse you if I can write it as it struck me,--a thing that does not always happen, I am sorry to say.

"The Italians were at first very savage about all your Garibaldian enthusiasm. Now, however, with true Italian subtlety they affect to take it as a national compliment. This is clever."

_From Mr John Blackwood._

"Edinburgh, _April_ 5, 1864.

"In walking home together yesterday afternoon, Aytoun and I had fits of laughter over O'Dowd. The thing that has tickled him is the victim of Cavour's eternal schemes for Italian progress, especially the plans turning up in the dead man's bureau. He agrees with me in thinking that you have completely taken second wind. I improved the occasion by commenting upon his own utter incapacity,--the lazy villain has not written a line for two years. A sheriffs.h.i.+p and a professors.h.i.+p are fatal to literary industry. It would be well worth while for any Government to give any man who is active in writing against them a good fat place, but it is fatal for them so to patronise their friends. G.o.d knows, however, that patronising their literary friends is a crime of which Governments are not often guilty, but I hope with all my heart that if we do come in, your turn, something good, will come at last."

_To Mr John Blackwood,_

"Casa Capponi, Florence, _April_ 17, 1864.

"How glad I am to be the first to say there is to be no 'mystery'

between us. I have wished for this many a day, and have only been withheld from feeling that I was not quite certain whether my grat.i.tude for the cheer and encouragement you have given me might not have run away with my judgment and made me forget the force of the Italian adage, 'It takes two to make a bargain.'

"How lightly you talk of ten years! Why, I was thirty years younger ten years ago than I am to-day. I'd have ridden at a five-foot wall with more pluck than I can summon now at a steep staircase. But I own to you frankly, if I had known _you_ then as I do now, it might have wiped off some of this score of years. Even my daughters guess at breakfast when I have had a pleasant note from you.

"I have thought over what you say about Garibaldi's visit to Mazzini, and added a bit to tag to the article. I have thought it better to say nothing of Stansfield--I know him so little; and though I think him an a.s.s, yet he might feel like the tenor who, when told, 'Monsieur, vous chantez faux,' replied, 'Je le sais, monsieur, mais je ne veux pas qu'on me le dise.'

"Don't cut out the Haymarket ladies if you can help it. The whole thing is very naughty, but it can't be otherwise. I'll try and carry it on a little farther. I have very grand intentions--more paving-stones for the place my hero comes from.

"But ask Aytoun what he thinks of it, and if it be worth carrying out.

The 'Devil's Tour' would be better than 'Conge.'

"The rhymes are often rough, but I meant them to be rugged lest it should be suspected I thought myself capable of verse--and I know better.

"Do what you like about the Flynn P.S. Perhaps it will be best not to make more mention of the rascal. I must tell you some day of my own scene with him at Spezzia, which 'The Telegraph' fellow has evidently heard of."

_To Mr John Blackwood._

"Florence, _Monday_, April 18,1864.

"On second thoughts I remembered how far easier it was always to me to make a new rod than to splice an old one, so I send you the Devil as he is. If ever the vein comes to me, I can take him up hereafter. Let Aytoun judge whether it be safe or wise to publish. I myself think that a bit of wickedness has always a certain gusto in good company, while amongst inferior folks it would savour of coa.r.s.eness. This is too bleak an attempt at explaining what I mean, but you will understand me.

"Last verse--

"For of course it lay heavily on his mind, And greatly distressed him besides, to find How these English had left him miles behind In this marvellous civilisation."

_To Mr John Blackwood_.

"Casa Capponi, Florence, _April_ 30, 1864

"For the first time these eight days I have looked at my bottle--the ink-bottle--again. I am subject to periodical and very acute attacks of 'doing-nothingness.'--it would be euphuism to call it idleness, which implies a certain amount of indulgence, but mine are dreary paroxysms of incapacity to do anything other than sleep and eat and grumble.

"I wanted for the best of all possible reasons to be up and at work, and I could not. I tried to--but it wouldn't do! At least I have found out it would be far better to do nothing at all than to do what would be so lamentably bad and unreadable.

"When I first got these attacks--they are of old standing now--I really fancied it was the 'beginning of the end,' and that it was all up with me. Now I take them as I do a pa.s.sing fit of gout, and hope a few days will see me through it.

"This is my excuse for not sending off the proof of 'Tony' before. I despatch it now, hoping it is all right, but beseeching you to see it is. I suppose you are right about Staffa, and that, like the sentinel who couldn't see the Spanish fleet, I failed for the same reason."