Volume Iii Part 28 (1/2)

[Sidenote: Miss Power.]

BROADSTAIRS, KENT, _Tuesday, July 14th, 1847._

MY DEAR MISS POWER,

Though I am hopeless of Rosherville until after the 28th--for am I not beckoned, by angels of charity and by local committees, to Manchester and Liverpool, and to all sorts of bedevilments (if I may be allowed the expression) in the way of managerial miseries in the meantime--here I find myself falling into parenthesis within parenthesis, like Lord Brougham--yet will I joyfully come up to London on Friday, to dine at your house and meet the Dane, whose Books I honour, and whose--to make the sentiment complete, I want something that would sound like ”Bones, I love!” but I can't get anything that unites reason with beauty. You, who have genius and beauty in your own person, will supply the gap in your kindness.

An advertis.e.m.e.nt in the newspapers mentioning the dinner-time, will be esteemed a favour.

Some wild beasts (in cages) have come down here, and involved us in a whirl of dissipation. A young lady in complete armour--at least, in something that s.h.i.+nes very much, and is exceedingly scaley--goes into the den of ferocious lions, tigers, leopards, etc., and pretends to go to sleep upon the princ.i.p.al lion, upon which a rustic keeper, who speaks through his nose, exclaims, ”Behold the abazid power of woobad!” and we all applaud tumultuously.

Seriously, she beats Van Amburgh. And I think the Duke of Wellington must have her painted by Landseer.

My penitent regards to Lady Blessington, Count D'Orsay, and my own Marchioness.

Ever, dear Miss Power, Very faithfully yours.

[Sidenote: Miss d.i.c.kens.]

BROADSTAIRS, _Wednesday, August 4th, 1847._

MY DEAREST MAMEY,

I am delighted to hear that you are going to improve in your spelling, because n.o.body can write properly without spelling well. But I know you will learn whatever you are taught, because you are always good, industrious, and attentive. That is what I always say of my Mamey.

The note you sent me this morning is a very nice one, and the spelling is beautiful.

Always, my dear Mamey, Your affectionate Papa.

[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready.]

DEVONs.h.i.+RE TERRACE, _Tuesday Morning, Nov. 23rd, 1847._

MY DEAR MACREADY,

I am in the whirlwind of finis.h.i.+ng a number with a crisis in it; but I can't fall to work without saying, in so many words, that I feel all words insufficient to tell you what I think of you after a night like last night. The mult.i.tudes of new tokens by which I know you for a great man, the swelling within me of my love for you, the pride I have in you, the majestic reflection I see in you of all the pa.s.sions and affections that make up our mystery, throw me into a strange kind of transport that has no expression but in a mute sense of an attachment, which, in truth and fervency, is worthy of its subject.

What is this to say! Nothing, G.o.d knows, and yet I cannot leave it unsaid.

Ever affectionately yours.

P.S.--I never saw you more gallant and free than in the gallant and free scenes last night. It was perfectly captivating to behold you. However, it shall not interfere with my determination to address you as Old Parr in all future time.

[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]

EDINBURGH, _Thursday, December 13th, 1847._