Part 6 (1/2)
It was in January, 1860, that Mr George Sazine_ but the _Pall Mall Gazette_--gave a sumptuous dinner to his contributors It was a memorable banquet in many ways, but chiefly so to me because on that occasion I first met many men who afterwards became my most intimate associates It can rarely happen that one such occasion can be the first starting-point of so many friendshi+ps It was at that table, and on that day, that I first saw Thackeray, Charles Taylor (Sir)--than whom in latter life I have loved no man better,--Robert Bell, G H Lewes, and John Everett Millais With all these men I afterwards lived on affectionate terms;--but I will here speak specially of the last, because from that time he was joined with me in so ed to illustrate _Frae_, but this was not the first work he did for the azine In the second nu Monckton Milne's _Unspoken Dialogue_ The first drawing he did for _Frae_ did not appear till after the dinner of which I have spoken, and I do not think that I knew at the tied on my novel When I did know it, it made me very proud He afterwards illustrated _Orley Farton_, _Rachel Ray_, and _Phineas Finn_ Altogether he drew fros, and I do not think that more conscientious as ever done by ht readers of novels to have learned--that there are two , either of which ood artist To which class Mr Millais belongs I need not say; but, as a good artist, it was open to him simply to make a pretty picture, or to study the work of the author fro he was bound to take his subject I have too often found that the forht to be the better, as it certainly is the easier method An artist will frequently dislike to subordinate his ideas to those of an author, and will sometimes be too idle to find out what those ideas are But this artist was neither proud nor idle In every figure that he dreas his object to promote the views of the writer whose work he had undertaken to illustrate, and he never spared hi that work, so as to enable him to do so I have carried on some of those characters from book to book, and have had my own early ideas impressed indelibly on my memory by the excellence of his delineations Those illustrations were coo, and from that time up to this dayhas increased To see him has always been a pleasure His voice has been a sweet sound in my ears Behind his back I have never heard hiist; I have never heard a word spoken against hi the censurer These words, should he ever see therave, and will tell hi man never tells another
Sir Charles Taylor, who carried , and thus commenced an intimacy which has since been very close, was born to wealth, and was therefore not compelled by the necessities of a profession to enter the lists as an author But he lived much with those who did so,--and could have done it hi at the Garrick Club, to which, however, I did not yet belong He gave the best dinners of iver of dinners A ue, brusque in his manners, odious to those who dislike him, somewhat inclined to tyranny, he is the prince of friends, honest as the sun, and as open-handed as Charity itself
[Footnote 6: Alas! within a year of the writing of this he went from us]
Robert Bell has now been dead nearly ten years As I look back over the interval and remember how intimate ere, it seems odd to me that we should have known each other for no more than six years He was a man who had lived by his pen from his very youth; and was so far successful that I do not think that want ever came near him But he never made that mark which his industry and talents would have seemed to ensure He was a man well known to literary men, but not known to readers As a journalist he was useful and conscientious, but his plays and novels never , and he brought out an annotated edition of the British poets; but he achieved no great success I have known no lish literature Hence his conversation had a peculiar char be remembered at the Literary Fund Committees, of which he was a staunch and most trusted supporter I think it was he who first introduced me to that board It has often been said that literary hted and unappreciated
Robert Bell certainly never achieved the position in literature which he once aspired to fill, and which he was justified in thinking that he could earn for himself I have frequently discussed these subjects with him, but I never heard from his mouth a word of complaint as to his own literary fate He liked to hear the chier hot in his mouth On such occasions no sound ever caentle revelry
George Lewes,--with his wife, whoe Eliot,--has also been and still is one of my dearest friends He is, I think, the acutest critic I know,--and the severest His severity, however, is a fault His intention to be honest, even when honesty ive pain when honesty has not required it He is essentially a doubter, and has encouraged hi has al of the personal trust which one man feels in another, but of that confidence in literary excellence, which is, I think, necessary for the full enjoyment of literature In onecan bethan the unstinted ad that comes from the pen of the wonderful woman to whoain when speaking of the novelists of the present day
Of ”Billy Russell,” as ays used to call him, I may say that I never knew but one man equal to him in the quickness and continuance of witty speech That one man was Charles Lever--also an Irishman--whom I had known from an earlier date, and also with close intimacy Of the two, I think that Lever was perhaps the s His manner was perhaps a little the happier, and his turns more sharp and unexpected But ”Billy”
also was marvellous Whether abroad as special correspondent, or at ho coave hiain when I record his death
There were e Smith's table Albert Smith, for the first, and indeed for the last tiins, whoarded; Dallas, who for a time was literary critic to the _Times_, and who certainly in that capacity did better work than has appeared since in the saiven hiher e the best writer in his day of sensational leading articles; and Fitz-James Stephen, a man of very different calibre, who has not yet cules There were many others;--but I cannot now recall their various names as identified with those banquets
Of _Frae_ I need only further say, that as I wrote it I became more closely than ever acquainted with the new shi+re which I had added to the English counties I had it all in my mind,--its roads and railroads, its towns and parishes, its members of Parliament, and the different hunts which rode over it I knew all the great lords and their castles, the squires and their parks, the rectors and their churches This was the fourth novel of which I had placed the scene in Barsetshi+re, and as I wrote it I hout these stories there has been no naiven to a fictitious site which does not represent to h I had lived and wandered there
CHAPTER IX
_CASTLE RICHMOND_--_BROWN, JONES, AND ROBINSON_--_NORTH AMERICA_--_ORLEY FARM_
When I had half-finished _Frae_, I went back tofor Messrs Chapman & Hall, and completed that I think that this was the only occasion on which I have had two different novels in my mind at the same time
This, however, did not create either difficulty or confusion Many of us live in different circles; and e go from our friends in the town to our friends in the country, we do not usually fail to remember the little details of the one life or the other The parson at Rusticus; and our old friend, the Squire, with his fae, who has been cross with us, because we rode so unnecessarily over his barley; and that rascally poacher, once a gamekeeper, who now traps all the foxes; and pretty Mary Cann, whoseto expedite;--though we are alive to theossip, or the memories of last season's dinners, or any incident of our London inti novels, and we e to keep the different tales distinct A man does, in truth, remember that which it interests hie has come on, we should understand that the capacity for interest in the enerally very old and feeble before he forgets how ood deal to be learned by any one ishes to write a novel well; but when the art has been acquired, I do not see o or three should not be ritten at the sait I have indeed formyself, with the narrowest thread of a plot, to work the matter out when the pen is initself on the work I have done Had I left either _Frae_ or _Castle Richo, I think I could complete the tales noith very little trouble I have not looked at _Castle Richmond_ since it was published; and poor as the work is, I remember all the incidents
_Castle Richh the plot is a fairly good plot, and is enerally been able to find The scene is laid in Ireland, during the faer like Irish stories I cannot understand why it should be so, as the Irish character is peculiarly well fitted for roenerally have become distasteful This novel, however, is of itself a weak production The characters do not excite sympathy The heroine has two lovers, one of whoirl's mother is her own rival Rivalry of the same nature has been admirably depicted by Thackeray in his _Esmond_; but there the irl's indifference In _Castle Richhter of the irl herself has no character; and the ue is often lively, and some of the incidents are well told; but the story as a whole was a failure I cannot rehly handled by the critics when it ca so hard was said of it then as that which I have said here
I was now settled at Waltham Cross, in a house in which I could entertain a few friends es and strawberries, s I occupied it for twelve years, and they were years to reat prosperity In 1861 I became a member of the Garrick Club, hich institution I have since been ed to it about two years, when, on Thackeray's death, I was invited to fill his place on the Coust body ever since Having up to that ti of clubs, having even as a boy been banished froaiety of the Garrick It was a festival to reat delight to play a rubber in the little roo now of the old club in King Street This playing of whist before dinner has since that beco else special to do--unless there be hunting, or I a tyrant of my household--it is ”my custom always in the afternoon” I have so that I wasmyself a slave to an amusement which has not after all very ht that I would break myself away from it, and ”swear off,”
as Rip Van Winkle says Butoff has been like that of Rip Van Winkle And now, as I think of it coolly, I do not know but that I have been right to cling to it As a rows old he wants a; and then it beco should, no doubt, be the delight of men's leisure hours Had I to choose between books and cards, I should no doubt take the books But I find that I can seldom read with pleasure for above an hour and a half at a time, or more than three hours a day As I write this I a iven but to fewI think that without cards I should now be an to play at the Garrick, I did so simply because I liked the society of thethose ho been aware of a certain weakness infor love I have ever had a wish to be liked by those around ratified In my school-days no sarded the popularity of popular boys
They seemed to me to live in a social paradise, while the desolation of my pandemonium was cothe clerks in the Post Office I held my own fairly for the first two or three years; but even then I regardedof a pariah My Irish life had been much better I had had eneral respect But even in Ireland I had in truth lived but little in society Our means had been sufficient for our wants, but insufficient for entertaining others It was not till we had settled ourselves at Walthaan to live e of men at which I felt myself to be popular
I soon became a member of other clubs There was the Arts Club in Hanover Square, of which I saw the opening, but fro found that during these three or four years I had not once entered the building Then I was one of the originators of the Civil Service Club--not froated to do so by others That also I left for the sa elected by the Committee at the Athenaeum For this I was indebted to the kindness of Lord Stanhope; and I never was more surprised than when I was informed of the fact About the same time I became a member of the Cosmopolitan, a little club that meets twice a week in Charles Street, Berkeley Square, and supplies to all its members, and its e! The gatherings there I used to think very delightful One hes, Willia, Henry Reeve, Arthur Russell, To political eleave a certain spirit to the place Lord Ripon, Lord Stanley, Williae Bentinck, Vernon Harcourt, Brouessen, with many others, used to whisper the secrets of Parliaues Afterwards I became a member of the Turf, which I found to be serviceable--or the reverse--only for the playing of whist at high points
In August, 1861, I wrote another novel for the _Cornhill Magazine_
It was a short story, about one volules of Brown, Jones, and Robinson_ In this I attempted a style for which I certainly was not qualified, and to which I never had again recourse It was , and was intended as a satire on the ways of trade Still I think that there is soood fun in it, but I have heard no one else express such an opinion I do not know that I ever heard any opinion expressed on it, except by the publisher, who kindly remarked that he did not think it was equal to ht, he did not republish the story in a book form till 1870, and then it passed into the world of letters _sub silentio_ I do not know that it was ever criticised or ever read I received 600 for it
From that time to this I have been paid at about that rate for my work--600 for the quantity contained in an ordinary novel volu tale published in twenty parts, which is equal in length to five such volu more than this, never I think less for any tale, except when I have publishedsaid so much, I need not further specify the prices as I mention the books as they ritten I will, however, when I aive a list of all the sums I have received for my literary labours
I think that _Brown, Jones, and Robinson_ was the hardest bargain I ever sold to a publisher