Volume Iii Part 61 (1/2)

I am but newly come home from reading at Reading (where I succeeded poor Talfourd as the president of an inst.i.tution), and at Sherborne, in Dorsets.h.i.+re, and at Bradford, in Yorks.h.i.+re. Wonderful audiences! and the number at the last place three thousand seven hundred. And yet but for the noise of their laughing and cheering, they ”went” like one man.

The absorption of the English mind in the war is, to me, a melancholy thing. Every other subject of popular solicitude and sympathy goes down before it. I fear I clearly see that for years to come domestic reforms are shaken to the root; every miserable red-tapist flourishes war over the head of every protester against his humbug; and everything connected with it is pushed to such an unreasonable extent, that, however kind and necessary it may be in itself, it becomes ridiculous. For all this it is an indubitable fact, I conceive, that Russia MUST BE stopped, and that the future peace of the world renders the war imperative upon us. The Duke of Newcastle lately addressed a private letter to the newspapers, entreating them to exercise a larger discretion in respect of the letters of ”Our Own Correspondents,” against which Lord Raglan protests as giving the Emperor of Russia information for nothing which would cost him (if indeed he could get it at all) fifty or a hundred thousand pounds a year. The communication has not been attended with much effect, so far as I can see. In the meantime I do suppose we have the wretchedest Ministry that ever was--in whom n.o.body not in office of some sort believes--yet whom there is n.o.body to displace. The strangest result, perhaps, of years of Reformed Parliaments that ever the general sagacity did _not_ foresee.

Let me recommend you, as a brother-reader of high distinction, two comedies, both Goldsmith's--”She Stoops to Conquer” and ”The Good-natured Man.” Both are so admirable and so delightfully written that they read wonderfully. A friend of mine, Forster, who wrote ”The Life of Goldsmith,” was very ill a year or so ago, and begged me to read to him one night as he lay in bed, ”something of Goldsmith's.” I fell upon ”She Stoops to Conquer,” and we enjoyed it with that wonderful intensity, that I believe he began to get better in the first scene, and was all right again in the fifth act.

I am charmed by your account of Haldimand, to whom my love. Tell him Sydney Smith's daughter has privately printed a life of her father with selections from his letters, which has great merit, and often presents him exactly as he used to be. I have strongly urged her to publish it, and I think she will do so, about March.

My eldest boy has come home from Germany to learn a business life at Birmingham (I think), first of all. The whole nine are well and happy.

Ditto, Mrs. d.i.c.kens. Ditto, Georgina. My two girls are full of interest in yours; and one of mine (as I think I told you when I was at Elysee) is curiously like one of yours in the face. They are all agog now about a great fairy play, which is to come off here next Monday. The house is full of spangles, gas, Jew theatrical tailors, and pantomime carpenters.

We all unite in kindest and best loves to dear Mrs. Cerjat and all the blooming daughters. And I am, with frequent thoughts of you and cordial affection, ever, my dear Cerjat,

Your faithful Friend.

[Sidenote: Miss Mary Boyle.]

TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _January 3rd, 1855._

MY DEAR MARY,

This is a word of heartfelt greeting; in exchange for yours, which came to me most pleasantly, and was received with a cordial welcome. If I had leisure to write a letter, I should write you, at this point, perhaps the very best letter that ever was read; but, being in the agonies of getting up a gorgeous fairy play for the postboys, on Charley's birthday (besides having the work of half-a-dozen to do as a regular thing), I leave the merits of the wonderful epistle to your lively fancy.

Enclosing a kiss, if you will have the kindness to return it when done with.

I have just been reading my ”Christmas Carol” in Yorks.h.i.+re. I should have lost my heart to the beautiful young landlady of my hotel (age twenty-nine, dress, black frock and jacket, exquisitely braided) if it had not been safe in your possession.

Many, many happy years to you! My regards to that obstinate old Wurzell[21] and his dame, when you have them under lock and key again.

Ever affectionately yours.

[Sidenote: Mrs. Gaskell.]

TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _January 27th, 1855._

MY DEAR MRS. GASKELL,

Let me congratulate you on the conclusion of your story; not because it is the end of a task to which you had conceived a dislike (for I imagine you to have got the better of that delusion by this time), but because it is the vigorous and powerful accomplishment of an anxious labour. It seems to me that you have felt the ground thoroughly firm under your feet, and have strided on with a force and purpose that MUST now give you pleasure.

You will not, I hope, allow that not-lucid interval of dissatisfaction with yourself (and me?), which beset you for a minute or two once upon a time, to linger in the shape of any disagreeable a.s.sociation with ”Household Words.” I shall still look forward to the large sides of paper, and shall soon feel disappointed if they don't begin to reappear.

I thought it best that Wills should write the business letter on the conclusion of the story, as that part of our communications had always previously rested with him. I trust you found it satisfactory? I refer to it, not as a matter of mere form, but because I sincerely wish everything between us to be beyond the possibility of misunderstanding or reservation.

Dear Mrs. Gaskell, very faithfully yours.

[Sidenote: Mr. Arthur Ryland.]

TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _Monday, Jan. 29th, 1855._