TO MR. BLACKWOOD.
I am afraid what you say about my labours is scarcely complimentary, but a naturally restless temperament makes it almost a necessary of life for me to be constantly occupied, and Providence has added just such an amount of pressure as makes it desirable for me to do what I can. The only thing I can grumble at in the matter is that now and then some one like yourself, whose good opinion I should be very sorry to lose, is disposed to blame me in consequence; but I cannot help this, much as I regret it. The book ‘Lilliesleaf’ has been announced for a month or more in Hurst & Blackett’s list, though not by name. It is a continuation and conclusion of ‘Mrs. Margaret Maitland,’ which is the reason, I should fancy, that its name is familiar to you, and is written by that old lady who terminates her existence in the act. I have long intended to conclude the series so, and (as I surely told you) designed ‘The Days of My Life’ as the first of a new anonymous series, not desiring to be stereotyped as the author of ‘Mrs. Margaret’ any more.
‘The Days of My Life,’ I am sure, would not at all suit the Magazine. The book is less a story than a monologue, and though I have a kindness for it myself, I quite feel that it could not bear the ordeal of periodical publication. But — if you and your readers are not tired of me — I think I have something in my mind which might be made a tolerable successor to ‘Zaidee.’ Some time in the spring, if everything goes well in the mean time, I shall speak to you of this; though I am some times doubtful whether in your most manly and masculine of magazines a womanish story-teller like myself may not become wearisome....In the meantime, I have a great desire to say my say once upon the subject of poetry. I shall not touch upon anybody else’s ground, but I wish very much to put in my word upon the Tennysons and Dobells; and if it does not interfere with anything, would like much to follow my Art article with one on poetry.
November 8.
I had begun to Ruskin before I got your note; but what I say about him will not be at all like what has been already said in the Magazine, so that I do not think you would desire me to stop; but I will not enlarge upon him, only he is an indispensable individual in any collection of men who are wiser than their neighbours....
I have been much amused already by the little commotion which the appearance of Mr. Steele in the late numbers of ‘Zaidee’ has made amongst sundry good people here. This character is a very slight sketch of our friend Lance the fruit-painter, whose wit and eccentricities and goodness are very well known; and it seems to have been already recognised by a great many. He has been told of it himself, and takes it very well. I shall have very great pleasure in making Colonel Hamley’s acquaintance, and hope you will not forget your promised introduction.
November 24.
In respect to what you say of a review of ‘Hard Times,’ I thought, immediately after seeing you, of a plan I should like very well if it pleased you — to give you three short articles on Novels or Novelists: the first Bulwer, the second Dickens and Thackeray, and the third, the indiscriminate multitude of fictionists. Bulwer’s cheap editions would do very well for a text in the one case, and Dickens’ ‘Hard Times ‘ and Thackeray’s new Christmas book (if it is good) in the other.
* * * *
Since seeing Captain Blackwood yesterday I have read over ‘Night and Morning,’ and put in a few words about it; but I really do not feel that I can do more in conscience. For my own part, I think a true partisan of Bulwer’s ought to drop all his intermediate works. To say the best of them that one can, they are still only novels — more interesting than many, and perhaps rather more objectionable than most — freaks of his genius, — whereas his last works show all the nobler qualities of a great mind....
I do not like Disraeli’s works either, but they are always clever, and I wanted a poise for Warren. I wish I could have altered this article a little more, since you would have liked it, but indeed I do not feel that I could do it conscientiously. I think the later works as near perfect as possible, but I cannot be pleased with the others.