The Letters of Charles Dickens - LightNovelsOnl.com
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If you have any difficulty about Kit, never mind about putting him in.
The two others to-morrow.
Faithfully always.
[Sidenote: Mr. George Cattermole.]
DEVONs.h.i.+RE TERRACE, _Friday Morning._
MY DEAR CATTERMOLE,
I sent the MS. of the enclosed proof, marked 2, up to Chapman and Hall, from Devons.h.i.+re, mentioning a subject of an old gateway, which I had put in expressly with a view to your ill.u.s.trious pencil. By a mistake, however, it went to Browne instead. Chapman is out of town, and such things have gone wrong in consequence.
The subject to which I wish to call your attention is in an unwritten number to follow this one, but it is a mere echo of what you will find at the conclusion of this proof marked 2. I want the cart, gaily decorated, going through the street of the old town with the wax brigand displayed to fierce advantage, and the child seated in it also dispersing bills. As many flags and inscriptions about Jarley's Wax Work fluttering from the cart as you please. You know the wax brigands, and how they contemplate small oval miniatures? That's the figure I want. I send you the sc.r.a.p of MS. which contains the subject.
Will you, when you have done this, send it with all speed to Chapman and Hall, as we are mortally pressed for time, and I must go hard to work to make up for what I have lost by being dutiful and going to see my father.
I want to see you about a frontispiece to our first "Clock" volume, which will come out (I think) at the end of September, and about other matters. When shall we meet and where?
I say nothing about our cousin or the baby, for Kate bears this, and will make me a full report and convey all loves and congratulations.
Could you dine with us on Sunday, at six o'clock sharp? I'd come and fetch you in the morning, and we could take a ride and walk. We shall be quite alone, unless Macready comes. What say you?
Don't forget despatch, there's a dear fellow, and ever believe me,
Heartily yours.
[Sidenote: Mr. George Cattermole.]
_December 22nd, 1840._
DEAR GEORGE,
The child lying dead in the little sleeping-room, which is behind the open screen. It is winter time, so there are no flowers; but upon her breast and pillow, and about her bed, there may be strips of holly and berries, and such free green things. Window overgrown with ivy. The little boy who had that talk with her about angels may be by the bedside, if you like it so; but I think it will be quieter and more peaceful if she is quite alone. I want it to express the most beautiful repose and tranquillity, and to have something of a happy look, if death can.
2.
The child has been buried inside the church, and the old man, who cannot be made to understand that she is dead, repairs to the grave and sits there all day long, waiting for her arrival, to begin another journey.
His staff and knapsack, her little bonnet and basket, etc., lie beside him. "She'll come to-morrow," he says when it gets dark, and goes sorrowfully home. I think an hourgla.s.s running out would help the notion; perhaps her little things upon his knee, or in his hand.
I am breaking my heart over this story, and cannot bear to finish it.
Love to Missis.
Ever and always heartily.
1841.
NARRATIVE.
In the summer of this year Charles d.i.c.kens made, accompanied by Mrs.
d.i.c.kens, his first visit to Scotland, and was received in Edinburgh with the greatest enthusiasm.
He was at Broadstairs with his family for the autumn, and at the close of the year he went to Windsor for change of air after a serious illness.
On the 17th January "The Old Curiosity Shop" was finished. In the following week the first number of his story of "Barnaby Rudge"
appeared, in "Master Humphrey's Clock," and the last number of this story was written at Windsor, in November of this year.
We have the first letters to his dear and valued friends the Rev.
William Harness and Mr. Harrison Ainsworth. Also his first letter to Mr.
Monckton Milnes (now Lord Houghton).
Of the letter to Mr. John Tomlin we would only remark, that it was published in an American magazine, edited by Mr. E. A. Poe, in the year 1842.
"The New First Rate" (first letter to Mr. Harrison Ainsworth) must, we think, be an allusion to the outside cover of "Bentley's Miscellany,"
which first appeared in this year, and of which Mr. Ainsworth was editor.
The two letters to Mr. Lovejoy are in answer to a requisition from the people of Reading that he would represent them in Parliament.
The letter to Mr. George Cattermole (26th June) refers to a dinner given to Charles d.i.c.kens by the people of Edinburgh, on his first visit to that city.
The "poor Overs," mentioned in the letter to Mr. Macready of 24th August, was a carpenter dying of consumption, to whom Dr. Elliotson had shown extraordinary kindness. "When poor Overs was dying" (wrote Charles d.i.c.kens to Mr. Forster), "he suddenly asked for a pen and ink and some paper, and made up a little parcel for me, which it was his last conscious act to direct. She (his wife) told me this, and gave it me. I opened it last night. It was a copy of his little book, in which he had written my name, 'with his devotion.' I thought it simple and affecting of the poor fellow."
"The Saloon," alluded to in our last letter of this year, was an inst.i.tution at Drury Lane Theatre during Mr. Macready's management. The original purpose for which this saloon was established having become perverted and degraded, Charles d.i.c.kens had it much at heart to remodel and improve it. Hence this letter to Mr. Macready.
[Sidenote: Rev. William Harness.]
DEVONs.h.i.+RE TERRACE, _Sat.u.r.day Morning, Jan. 2nd, 1841._
MY DEAR HARNESS,
I should have been very glad to join your pleasant party, but all next week I shall be laid up with a broken heart, for I must occupy myself in finis.h.i.+ng the "Curiosity Shop," and it is such a painful task to me that I must concentrate myself upon it tooth and nail, and go out nowhere until it is done.
I have delayed answering your kind note in a vague hope of being heart-whole again by the seventh. The present state of my work, however (Christmas not being a very favourable season for making progress in such doings), a.s.sures me that this cannot be, and that I must heroically deny myself the pleasure you offer.
Always believe me, Faithfully yours.
[Sidenote: Mr. George Cattermole.]