e
always talk of you and yours, and drink to you heartily.
Public matters here are thought to be rather improving; the deep
mistrust of the gentleman in Paris being counteracted by the vigorous
state of preparation into which the nation is getting. You will have
observed, of course, that we establish a new defaulter in respect of
some great trust, about once a quarter. The last one, the cashier of a
City bank, is considered to have distinguished himself greatly, a
quarter of a million of money being high game.
No, my friend, I have not shouldered my rifle yet, but I should do so on
more pressing occasion. Every other man in the row of men I know--if
they were all put in a row--is a volunteer though. There is a tendency
rather to overdo the wearing of the uniform, but that is natural enough
in the case of the youngest men. The turn-out is generally very
creditable indeed. At the ball they had (in a perfectly unventilated
building), their new leather belts and pouches smelt so fearfully that
it was, as my eldest daughter said, like shoemaking in a great prison.
She, consequently, distinguished herself by fainting away in the most
inaccessible place in the whole structure, and being brought out
(horizontally) by a file of volunteers, like some slain daughter of
Albion whom they were carrying into the street to rouse the indignant
valour of the populace.
Lord, my dear Cerjat, when I turn to that page of your letter where you
write like an ancient sage in whom the fire has paled into a meek-eyed
state of coolness and virtue, I half laugh and half cry! _You_ old!
_You_ a sort of hermit? Boh! Get out.
With this comes my love and all our loves, to you and Mrs. Cerjat, and
your daughter. I add my special and particular to the sweet "singing
cousin." When shall you and I meet, and where? Must I come to see
Townshend? I begin to think so.
Ever, my dear Cerjat, your affectionate and faithful.
[Sidenote: Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton.]
GAD'S HILL, _Tuesday, June 5th, 1860._
MY DEAR BULWER LYTTON,
I am very much interested and gratified by your letter concerning "A
Tale of Two Cities." I do not quite agree with you on two points, but
that is no deduction from my pleasure.
In the first place, although the surrender of the feudal privileges (on
a motion seconded by a nobleman of great rank) was the occasion of a
sentimental scene, I see no reason to doubt, but on the c
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