4 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE DATE DUE m%f 9 19G4 A' V h^cf ...,r...<«.«y^ y* / '' «*OTr""*^"c *2DK «JJM««*4««-*-#iK flPTJLB inQ9 rik ^!^P^"ff^^^3 £"- a*i^* ■fSvJIr 1 GAVLORD PRINTED IN U S A. Cornell University Library PR 5617.S62 Sketch booksiThe Par;,f,,?^,^tff,l;,,';!?,iJff„ur 3 1924 013 562 487 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013562487 THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION THE WORKS OF WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY WITH BIOGRAPHICAL INTRODUCTIONS BY HIS DAUGHTER, ANNE RITCHIE IN THIRTEEN VOLUMES Volume V. SKETCH BOOKS THE PARIS SKETCH BOOK THE IRISH SKETCH BOOK NOTES OF A JOURNEY FROM CORNHILL TO GRAND CAIRO, Etc Publisliedhy Harp 6r&BrDthEra, Now York. SKETCH BOOKS THE PARIS SKETCH BOOK OF MR. M. A. TITMARSH THE IRISH SKETCH BOOK NOTES OF A JOURNEY FROM CORNHILL TO GRAND CAIRO BY WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR AND A PORTRAIT HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS NEW YORK AND LONDON 1898 p/? A. iso'ju Copyright, 1898, by Harphr & Brothbrs. AU rights reserved. CONTENTS FASG INTRODUCTION . . xiii THE PARIS SKETCH BOOK DEDICATION ... .... 3 ADVEETISEMENT . . . . , . 5 AN INVASION OF FKAXCE . . .7 A CAUTION TO TRAVELLERS . . 18 THE FETES OF JULY ...... 33 ON THE FRENCH SCHOOL OF PAINTING 41 THE painter's BAEGAIX ... 58 CARTOUCHE ...... .70 ON SOME FRENCH FASHIONABLE NOVELS . . . 80 A gambler's death . . 98 NAPOLEON AND HIS SYSTEM ... 107 THE STORY OF MARY ANCEL . . 119 BEATRICE MERGER . . . . 136 CARICATURES AND LITHOGRAPHY IN PARIS .142 LITTLE POINSINET . . . . . 166 THE devil's wager ..... 178 MADAME SAND AND THE NEW APOCALYPSE 187 THE CASE OF PEYTEL .... . 209 FRENCH DRAMAS AND MELODRAMAS . . . . 235 MEDITATIONS AT VERSAILLES .... 253 CONTENTS THE IRISH SKETCH BOOK OF 1842 DEDICATION CHAP. I. II. A SUMMER DAY IN DUBLIN, OK THERE AND THEREABOUTS ...... A COUNTRY-HOUSE IN KILDAKE SKETCHES OF AN IRISH FAMILY AND FARM III. FROM CARLOW TO WATERFORD IV. FROM WATERFORD TO CORK . ' . V. CORK — THE AGRICULTURAL SHOW FATHER MATHEW ...... VI. CORK THE URSULINE CONVENT . VII. CORK ... .... VIII. FROM CORK TO BANTRY ; WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THE CITY OF SKIBBEREEN IX. RAINY DAYS AT GLENGARIFF X. FROM GLENGARIFF TO KILLARNEY XI. KILLARNEY — STAG-HUNTING ON THE LAKE . XII. KILLARNEY — THE RACES — MUCKROSS . XIII. TRALEE LISTOWEL TARBERT LIMERICK ..... GALWAY " KILROY's HOTEL " GALWAY NIGHTs' ENTERTAINMENTS FIRST NIGHT : AN EVENING WITH CAPTAIN FREENY XVI. MORE RAIN IN GALWAY — A WALK THERE AND THE SECOND GALWAY NIGHt's ENTERTAIN- MENT ....... XVII. FROM GALWAY TO BALLINAHINCH XVIII. ROUNDSTONE PETTY SESSIONS . . . . XIV. XV. PAGE 269 271 291 300 310 320 328 336 347 357 363 371 377 385 391 403 420 444 455 CONTENTS ix CHAP. Pigp. XIX. CLIFDEN TO WESTPORT ..... 459 XX. WESTPORT .... .465 XXI. THE PATTERN AT CROAGHPATRICK . . 470 XXII. FROM WESTPORT TO BALLINASLOE . . 474 XXIII. BALLINASLOE TO DUBLIN . . 478 XXIV. TWO DAYS IN WICKLOW . .483 XXV. COUNTRY MEETINGS IN KILDAKE MEATH DROGHEDA . . . . 498 XXVI. DUNDALK . . . . . 510 XXVII. NEWRY, ARMAGH, BELFAST FROM DUNDALK TO NEWKY . 523 XXVIII. BELFAST TO THE CAUSEWAY 534 XXIX. THE giant's CAUSEWAY COLERAINE PORTRUSH 543 XXX. PEG OF LIMAVADDY . 554 XXXI. TBMPLEMOYLE DERRY . 560 XXXII. DUBLIN AT LAST .... 572 NOTES OF A JOUKNEY FEOM COKNHILL TO GRAND CAIRO DEDICATION . . . . 585 PREFACE . . . . 587 CHAP. L VIGO . . 589 II. LISBON CADIZ ... 595 IIL THE "lady MARY WOOD 603 IV. GIBRALTAR . . 609 V. ATHENS . . ... 620 VI. SMYRNA — FIRST GLIMPSES OF THE EAST . 628 VIL CONSTANTINOPLE . . . . .636 CONTENTS CHAP. VIII. EHODES IX. THE WHITE SQUALL I. TELMESSUS BEYEOUT XI. A DAY AND NIGHT IN SYRIA XII. FROM JAFFA TO JERUSALEM XIII. JERUSALEM . . . . XIV. FROM JAFFA TO ALEXANDRIA XV. TO CAIRO 654 661 665 672 679 687 704 710 SULTAN STORK PART THE FIRST PART THE SECOND 737 745 DICKENS IN FRANCE 753 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS PORTRAIT OF W. M. THACKERAY Frontispiece VIEW IN A CERTAIN CITY . MARIE ANCEL PRIEST READING HIS BREVIAPuV FRIAR AND DEMON CHAMBERMAID JAMES II. . ARTIST AT WORK PRIEST AND PEASANT DECK . SHAVING SCENE SLEEPING TKAVELLEK SIESTA IN TREE SIESTA PAGE xvii xix XX xxi xxiv XXV xxxi xxxiv xxxvii xxxviii xxxix xli xli THE PARIS SKETCH BOOK PARIS SKETCHES . MR. POGSON's TiOMPTATIONS A PUZZLE FOE THE l)K\'IL CARTOUCHE HOW TO ASTONISH THE FlIEXCH To face page ^'i 20 82 xii LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS THE CHEAP DEFENCE OF NATIONS . To fdce pdije HO MAEY ANCEL . . ., 120 POINSINET IN DISGUISE ... ,, 170 THE CHAPLAIN PUZZLED . . ,, 184 FRENCH CATHOLICISM . . ,, 188 THE GALLERY AT DEBURAU'S THEATRE SKETCHED FROM NATURE . . ,, 244 LUDOVICUS REX . „ 260 THE IRISH SKETCH BOOK A CAR TO KILLARNEY . THE MARKET AT KILLARNEV A ROW TO THE GIANT's CAUSEWAY 304 372 544 A JOURNEY FROM CORNHILL TO GRAND CAIRO A STREET VIEW AT CONSTANTINOPLE To face page 636 iJSTTRODUCTIOlSr TO SKETCH BOOKS 1840-1846 I PARIS SKETCH BOOK Time flies, but the great wings come beating backwards again as one looks over tbe records of the days that were, and which indeed are also now, and not in the past only. There is no need to dwell at any great length upon the time which my father spent at Paris after he left London and his home and his work. He was alnaost alone ; his parents had been called away by family affairs ; my baby-sister and I were deposited with our great -grandmother, Mrs. Butler, who cer- tainly thought us inconveniently young. But we had a friend ; a faithful and loving-hearted Scotch nurse, called Jessie Brodie, who rather than quit my father in his troubles at that time, broke ofE her own marriage, so she told me shyly, long years after. She helped my father to nurse my mother at first, then he left her in charge of the nursery, and removed from his grandmother's in order to be nearer to doctors. One cure after another was prescribed, foreign baths and home treatment in turn, all of which my father saw carried out, but of course the expenses were great. So was the anxiety, and the difficulty of earning an income to meet it all. I can remember being taken to see him in his lodgings, early of a morning. Very often he was dressing, and it was a privi- lege to see him shave, better still to watch him drawing pict- xiv SKETCH BOOKS ures or tearing little processions of pigs with curly tails out of paper. Sometimes he was writing, and to my surprise and an- noyance could not tear out little pigs. Among the letters from my father to Mrs. Procter in Mr. George M. Smith's possession there is one dated from Paris, in January 1841: "Our Milnes, who is going away to-morrow, will, I hope, bear this with him : it is only to thank you for writing so kindly to me, who have had so many troubles of late as to be very glad of, and sigh for, sympathy and consolation. ... I found my letter, when half done, did not contain a word of sympathy for you, and only a long, selfish account of my own particular sorrows, and so tore it up. Don't be angry if I tell you that on reading your letter I felt glad that somebody else was miserable and lonely. " Thank you for your kind pains about the book," he con- tinues. " I have seen many reviews of it, an important work that was compiled in four days, the ballad being added to it as an after-thought : it is the deuce that poetry — or rhymes — and never was an unfortunate fellow so plagued. For a whole week you would have fancied me a real poet, having all the exterior marks of one — with a week's beard, a great odour of tobacco, a scowling, ferocious, thoughtful appearance. I used to sit all day meditating, nail-biting, and laboriously producing about twenty lines in twelve hours. Are all poets in this way ? How wise Procter was to leave poetry for the gay science of law, in which a fellow has but to lie back in a Windsor chair and read interesting cases and settlements, with ' five guineas ' written on the title-page. I hope ' Titmarsh ' will produce as much ! " How well the Times found him out ! The article is very smart, I think, and complimentary too, and best of all, will make people curious to get the book. I have V^d. out of each half- crown. £ s. d. 100 copies 750 pence . 3 2 6 1000 " 7500 " 31 5 10,000 " 75,000 " 312 10 100,000 " 750,000 " 3125 iuu,uuu " 750,000 " 3125 " One hundred copies have already been sold, so that you see my fortune is very clear." INTRODUCTION xv Mr. FitzGerald writing to liis friend ^^'. H. Thompson, sa3's, in February 1841 : " Have you read Thackeray's little book, ' The Second Funeral of Napoleon ' ? If not, pray do ; and buy it, and ask others to buy it, as each copy sold puts 7-Jd. in T.'s pocket, which is very empty just now, I take it. I think the book is the best thing he has done." Once more writing to Mrs. Procter, in March, my father says of his own last letter to her : " Indeed, it was written by a very miserable fellow, who was quite unaccustomed to that kind of mood, and is not a whit happier now, only he bears his griefs more composedly. What won't a man bear with a little prac- tice ? — ruin, blindness, his legs off, dishonour, death of dearest friend, and what not. As the cares multiply — I don't know whether this sentence is left unfinished, because I don't know how to finish it, or because it is a shame to begin such disser- tations to a lady who merits more grateful treatment from me." Then he goes on to tell her that he has just been compli- mented on his new novel of " Cecil." " just punishment of vanity ! How I wish I had written it, not for the book's sake, but for the filthy money, which I love better than fame. The fact is, I am about a wonderful romance, and I long for the day when the three volumes shall be completed." (If this romance was that well-known one without a hero, it did not finally come out for seven years, dur- ing which how many other ventures are there not to be counted !) In one letter, written about this time, he says, in reply to a hospitable invitation from the Procters : " It is almost worth a man's while to be downcast and unhappy for a time, that he may get his friends' kindness and sympathy. He relishes it so, and I think the liking for it remains afterwards — at least now I feel a hundred per cent, happier than when I got your of- fer, and enjoy it really as much almost as if I had accepted it." And once more, writing in June 1841 : "Please when you write not to give me any account whatever of any gaieties in which you indulge, or any sort of happiness falling to the share of you or anybody else. But if anybody meets with an acci- dent, is arrested, ruined, has a wife run away with, if C. falls ill and is marked with the smallpox, do be so kind as to write me off word immediately, and I will pay the post cheerfully. xvi SKETCH BOOKS The only welcome intelligence in your letter is that the Austins have lost a good deal of money, and Procter £1100. . . . De- spair, madam, is the word. Byronish, I hate mankind, and wear my shirt-collar turned down. . . . " This week, for the first time these six months, I determined to try and amuse myself at the play, and paid twenty-five sous like a man, and went to the pit to see Mademoiselle Dejazet. This young creature, who is neither so innocent nor so good- looking as Vestris, but, on the other hand, incomparably older and cleverer, chose to act the part of a young girl of sixteen, in a little muslin frock and pinafore, with trousers and long braided hair like the Misses Kenwigs ; when this hideous, leering, grin- ning, withered wretch came forward, do you know, I was seized with such a qualm, as to shout out, ' Why, she is too ugly 1' and I was obliged to stride over 10,000 people in a most crowd- ed pit in order to get rid of the sight of her. . . ." And then going back to the Procters' own affairs, he says : " Well, I am really sorry now that the master of the house has lost his money, having arrived at a good humour by writing six pages of nonsense and thinking about all the kindness and pleas- ure I have had from you. I find I have been writing on a torn half- sheet of paper. Will you pardon me for taking such liberties? " . I have to ask another pardon for introducing my friend O'D. to you. He has a thousand of the very best qualities, but not the most necessary one of being pleasant. Alfred Tennyson, if he can't make you like him, will make you admire him, — he seems to me to have the cachet of a great man ; his conversation is often delightful I think, full of breadth, manliness, and humour; he reads all sorts of things, swallows them, and digests them like a great poetical boa-constrictor as he is. Now I hope, Mrs. Proc- ter, you will recollect that if your humble servant sneers at small geniuses, he has, on the contrary, a huge respect for big ones. Perhaps it is Alfred Tennyson's great big yellow face and growl- ing voice that have made an impression on me ; manliness and simplicity of manner go a great way with me, I fancy. . . . Was there ever such a stupid letter, full of nonsensical egotism ? As for the dingy state of the paper, I have only got a little table three feet by two, and as there are a bundle of manuscript, a bottle of ink that will upset, a paint-box and water, several dry INTRODUCTION xvu r ,x~N-:;— xviii SKETCH BOOKS cigars, sealing-wax, the whole of my menage ; so sure as this let- ter is discontinued for a moment, so sure does it tumble into a puddle of ink, or another of water, or into a heap of ashes: well, I have not the courage to clear the table, nor indeed to do any- thing else, and truth to tell, am quite beaten down. I don't know when I shall come round again ; not until I get a holiday, and tliat mayn't be for months to come. Meanwhile I can't work, nor write even amusing letters, nor talk of anything else but myself, which is bearable sometimes when Ego is in very good health and spirits, but odious beyond measure when he has only to entertain you with his woes. " Yesterday I had a delightful walk with a painter to St, Ger- mains, through charming, smiling countries that seemed to be hundreds of leagues away from cities. Pslia 1 this sentence was begun with a laudable intent of relieving you from the wearisome complaints of the last paragraph, but it is in vain. Allow me then, dear Mrs. Procter, to shut up the scrawl alto- gether, and to give a loose rein to dulness in privacy — it can't be enjoyed properly in company — in spite of which lam always yours and Procter's, W. M. T." Writing to his mother in the same year : " I am getting dread- fully bitten with my old painting mania," he says, " and as soon as I have written that famous book you know of, and made a few hundred pounds, make a vow to the great gods that I will try the thing once more. 'Titmarsh' has sold 140 copies, and be hanged to it — the donkeys of a public don't know a good thing when they get it. It has, however, been hugely praised by the Press, and will serve to keep my name up, though a failure. Then you know that General Moreau, when he retreated through the Black Forest; General Moore, General Massena, and others, made themselves illustrious by their reverses. Fiddlestick ! what's the use of writing such stuff to you ? — all the result of this in- fernal iron pen. . . . Such a man of an engraver as I have found ! I wish you could see him. He is about thirty-eight, has not a spark of genius, works fourteen hours a day, never breakfasts except ofi cheese and bread in his atelier, dines in the same way, never goes out, makes about 3000 francs a year, has a wife and child, and is happy the whole day long ; the whole home is like INTRODUCTION xliii appears to be very good, and my reputation in my profession of the best sort after the great guns. The admirers of Mr. Titmarsh are a small clique, but a good and increasing one, if I may gather from the daily offers that are made me, and the increased sums bid for my writings. Enough of this ; you know, or at least I hope, I don't puff myself with vanity, but try and consider my chances fairly like those of an indifferent party." x\ letter follows from 54 Grand Parade, Brighton : — • " I wish I had a home, and all of you here ; it is the merriest place. There are no trees, to be sure ; but the sun is not too hot, and the sea looks almost as blue as the Mediterranean. Yester- day I saw Mrs. FitzG-erald in great state — four-in-hand, an army of flunkeys and ladies'-maids, and piles of mysterious imperials. There's a prospect of good dinners 1" Here is one last allusion to the " Journey from Cornhill to Cairo " :— To his Mother. •'February IG, 1846. " I have just got my foot in the stirrup to be off to Brighton for two or three days' meditation, and have not a word to say even to fill this half-sheet. Haven't I gorged you with flnmmery from the newspapers ? They are all mighty polite, except one fellow, a friend of mine, who calls me a heartless and self-suffi- cient Cockney. The book is not only praised, but also sells very well. They have already got rid of a thousand more than the Irish book sold altogether. " I have been house-hunting like a maniac. What do you say to a beautiful house, field, farm of seven acres, at three miles from London, cocks, hens, paddocks, gardens, (fcc. ? This can be had for £200 a year— a perfect country domain." A. I. R. THE PAEIS SKETCH BOOK INTRODUCTION xix a cage of canai'ies, nothing but singing from night till morning. It goes to my heart to hear his little wife singing at her work. What noble characters does one light on in little nooks of this great world !" " Comic Tales and Sketches" belong to 1841, and were pub- lished by Hugh Cnnningliam, who also brought out "The Sec- ond Funeral of Napoleon." Tlie " Paris Sketch Book" had been MARIE ANCEL. published the previous year by Macrone, who was also godfather to another first book by a young author, called " Sketches by Boz." Some pretty drawings which must have been made for the " Paris Sketch Book," do not seem to have been used at the time. Here is a Marie Ancel, the heroine of the story about XX SKETCH BOOKS tlie French Revolution, and a picture of a priest reading his breviary. The Friar and the demon seem also to belong to the story of the Devil's Wager in the " Paris Sketch Book." Mr. Titmarsh was for ever observing and recording what he saw. He wrote it down, and he drew the pictures and sketches — specially the sketches— abroad, where shadows are crisper than with us, and houses are quainter, and the people and the scenes PRIEST READING HIS BREVIARY. more pleasantly varied. Our curates are curates, but they do not wear the romantic pastoral robes of the Catholic cures, nor such religious hats with curly brims. The note-books of those days are full of memoranda and sug- gestions for stories and articles. My father was reading and writing unceasingly ; he was occupied with foreign literature, but he kept up his interest in the English Press and in English INTRODUCTION xxi books — good, unceasingly ; he was occupied with foreign litera- ture, but he kept up his interest in the English Press and in English books — good, bad, indifferent; everything was sug- gestive, and had a meaning for hiro. PRIEST AND DEMON. Here is one day's history out of an old diary : — " Drew all the morning, or else read Marryat's ' Joseph Rush- xxii SKETCH BOOKS brook,' a good-natured, manlj sort of book. Walked with Isa- bella by the Park de Monceaux, looking green and pretty, and on the plain of Monceaux, hearing the steam-engines. After dinner talked to my wife, and read article on Bowes' election. Found in my portfolio an article written two months ago, of which the existence was completely forgotten, and saw more and more the utility of keeping some memorandum. Wrote till twelve, and thought of a good plan for some weekly paper arti- cles. The Morning Post was very flattering to ' Men and Coats.' " And then come lists of books, and more books, and of authors too — Emile Souvestre, Capefigne, Louis Blanc, Gallois, Le Croise de Bigorre, Saintine's story of " La Vierge de Fribourg," &c. &c. " Good idea ; a love story interwoven with a tour. Something might be done with the Belgian letters, perhaps in this way. ' L'H6tel des Invalides,' by M. St. Hilaire ; ' Le Capitaine Bleu,' an excellent story in vol. ii. A young fellow of great spirit, with a tinge of madness in his composition, and a mania for fighting duels. He has a friend who is equally celebrated. They meet after a long absence, and fight out of fun at first. The Captain kills his friend, excited by a red cloak which he wears. Here- after he forswears red, dresses himself in blue from head to foot. In a cafe he prevents two young oflacers from fighting. One of them to whom he tells his story turns out to be the son of the friend he had killed. The young man insists on a meeting and is killed, and the Captain goes stark mad." W. M. T. to E. FitzGerald m 1842. " I have read no good books or novels to talk of, but scores of vokimes of history, in the most owl-like, solemn way, and by way of amusement, Victor Hugo's new book on the Rhine. He is very great, and writes like a God Almighty. About this book I've been trying to write to-day, and only squeezed out one page. Hugo says some fine things — viz., looking at the stars, he says that night is, as it were, the normal colour of heaven. There is something awful in it — a dark-blue eternity, glittering all over with silent, watchful stars. Is it nonsense, or the contrary ? I know what Venables would say — that the dark blue is all gam- mon, being an optical efEect, and so on ; but still it's rather awful, and I feel certain that Time and Space are dark blue." INTRODUCTION II THE IRISH SKETCH BOOK 1842-1843 It was in the summer of 1842 that he went over from France to Ireland and wrote the " Irish Sketch Book," which was the first of his publications that came out under his own name. " It contains passages graver than his wont," writes a friendly critic, who goes on to say that he was at last beginning to make his mark. " Thackeray's was not a mind that could be long at work without the world perceiving that a strong man had come." My father was a strong man ; but he had a heavy burden to bear, and not for many months did his spirits revive, though all the time, his natural buoyancy and love of humorous things as- suredly helped to carry him forward. He sometimes seems al- rao.st to reproach himself for being distracted and amused by the fancy of the moment. Later on I shall have occasion to write more of Edward Fitz- Gerald, wiiose faithful goodness seems to have been his constant resource in these days, and to whom he writes a first letter from Ireland. It was sent to me (with others) by Colonel Kerrich after Mr. FitzGerald's death. "Stephen's Green, DnBLiN, July 4, 1842. " My DEAR OLD Edward, — I am just come, after a delight- ful tour, to Chepstow, Bristol, Hereford, Shrewsbury, Chester, Liverpool, Llangollen, and Wales in general. I found your dismal letter waiting on arrival here. What the deuce are you in the dumps for ? Don't flatter yourself but that I'll get on very well without you. Such a place as this hotel is itself enough to make a chapter about, such filth and liberality. O my dear friend, pray heaven on bended knee that to-night when I go to bed I find no * * * Turn over. Have you ever remarked that the little ones of all sting worst?" xxiv SKETCH BOOKS " I wanted to give you an idea of the splendour of the chamber- maid. I wrote a poem in the Llangollen album, as follows: — ' A better glass, nor a better pipe, I never had in all my life.' — Samhkl Rogkbs. Likewise a series of remarks by Thomas Moore, beginning, 'There is a little golden bird frequenting the cataracts of the Nile where CHAMBERMAID. it empties itself into the Tabreez Lake.' . . . What nonsense is all this to write, but I just wanted, however far, to shake hands with somebody across the water. Your uncle's letter I've sent off with my card, pronounced kyard — stuff — there I go again. — Well ! — there 1 go again — it is a queer state of mind, to be sure.' " To his mother he writes later on : " My last letter was put INTRODUCTION xxv into the post on my way to see 's brother, in County Meath, the honestest, best creature that ever was born. I stopped with him three days, on one of them going to see Trim, which is near Laracor, which is the place where Swift's living was; on another to see Slane Castle, a beautiful mansion belonging to my Lord Conyngham ; and on another to the Boyne ^Yater, where per- haps you have heard King William defeated King James. " 's benevolence would have done you good to witness. He thanked his coachman for driving us, his footman for bring- ing in the tea-urn, and seemed to be bubbling over with good humour and good-will towards man. His wife made me a pres- ent of ' Wiseman's Lectures,' hearing me say I should like to read them." We have this authentic portrait of King James at the battle of the Boyne, which may be not unappropriately inserted here. I think one of the pleasantest incidents of my father's visit to Ireland was a visit to Eiias Thackeray, the Vicar of Dun- dalk, of whom he ever spoke with aflEection. The Vicar's picture was taken in 1842. He is painted sit- ting in a stifE arm-chair ; he has a keen, plain, benevolent face ; there is an open window, through which .one sees a smiling prospect, and a portrait of his steeple also. Here is my father's account of the hospitable Vicar : " ' Sir,' xxvi SKETCH BOOKS says he, ' no person bearing the name of Thackeray must go through Dundalk without sleeping at my house,' . . . and there the old gentleman ordered his curate to come and dine with me, and amused me all day, taking me to infant schools, hos- pitals, and institutions. Well, they were all delightful to see, especially the infant schools: God bless them! and the little ones singing in a way that makes the sternest ruffians cry. We went one day to Thackeray's living of Louth, the best in Ire- land ; it was worth £3000 a year, but now only half, but 1500 or 3000, the man never has a shilling at the year's end, and has no expenses or extravagances of his own, and the rest goes to schools, hospitals, and the poor. I am sure God Almighty Himself must be pleased to look down on honest Elias Thack- eray ; and when 1 hear of human depravity as applied to him and some others, can't believe it for the soul of me." Writing to the same Vicar, my father describes his visit to Armagh and to its cathedral. "The service was nobly per- formed, better than anywhere in England, that is a fact. I looked with a great deal of interest at the Primate and his benevolent face, after all the good things you had told me of him. Chantrey's statue of Primate Stewart is beautiful, and I did not fail to spy out the Thackeray cherub in the painted window. I wonder how the angels got into our family?" " The world holds one good man the less," he wrote many years after to Martin Thackeray, " now your good brother has left it, after a life so noble, useful, and pious. I have always thought him one of the most fortunate of men ; to have such a career, and such peculiar qualities suiting him for it — activity, benevolence, simplicity, faith, unselfishness, immense esteem from all round about him, who could not but love and honour him ; what man could wish for a better fate in life ; and if he was lucky here, he is now even more to be envied 1 The good deeds [of his long life bear interest yonder. , . One would never think of being sorry for the death of such a man ; at such years it was time that he should go and reap the fruit of his life. So I do not offer to condole with you on your brother's death ; but I know you will believe in the sincere affection and honour in which I hold his memory, and that I like to think that such a man bore our name." INTRODUCTION xxvii My father's spirits vary very much. There is a letter, cheerful and revived, following a visit to Mr. Peter Purcell : "Nothing but laughing and sunshine from morning till night along the road; and when I parted from them, I felt as if I had known them all my life, and indeed I think I shall be sincerely at- tached to them for the rest of it. ... I have breakfasted with Father Matlicw. a tine fellow, simple, straightforward, manly, and with one idea: he never lets a chance slip to get a convert, and says he would rather convert Peter Purcell than any other man in Ireland." Writing again of the Purcells, my father says, " Such people are not to be met with more than a few times in a man's life." His spirits flagged again towards the end of his journey. "Have you remarked how stupid my letters are?" he says to his mother. " Solitude creates a muzziness and incoherency in me, and I must get back to the little ones, that is clear. I am never thinking of what I am writing about. All the time I was writing of Thackeray, there was something else in my thoughts, and so on. Oh, I am glad the end of my trip is at hand. I have been heart-weary for months past, that's the truth. I in- tended to have addressed the remainder of this, just for the look of the thing, from the Giant's Causeway, but the place was so awful and lonely, I fled from it, after a couple of hours' visit, to sea-sickness in an infernal boat, trembling and sprawl- ing among rocks afterwards, and a lonely dinner at an hotel, a huge place with not a soul in it, the last company being a corpse which had just gone. I think the ghost was there still, and I got out of the place in a panic. " The drive from Belfast along the coast was magnificent, and I never enjoyed anything more in my life ; but I think I shall enjoy a drive to St. Germains still more. Meanwhile I dream of you and the little ones every night, which, to be sure, is not much comfort. I shall have done five-sixths of the book by the time I am with you on the 1st of November." " Peg of Limavaddy " came out in the " Irish Sketch Book." One can feel the shadow in the poem as well as the sunshine of it, and the courage and sweetness of the temper which enabled him to write it : xxviii SKETCH BOOKS " Came a Cockney bound Unto Derry city ; Weary was his soul, Shivering and sad he Bumped along the road Leads to Limavaddy. Mountains stretch'd around, Gloomy was their tinting, And the horse's hoofs Made a dismal dinting. Mid the bogs of black, Silver pools were flashing. Crows upon their sides Picking were and splashing, Tlirough the crashing woods Autumn brawl'd and bluster'd. Tossing round about Leaves the hue of mustard ; YDuder lay Lough Foyle, Which a storm was whipping, Covering with mist Lake, and shores, and shipping." Wliat a picture it all gives of Iruland, and of ray father's journey there ! " Weary was his soul, shivering and sad he." But though he complained for once, I think it was only to make a rhyme to Limavaddy, and the little idyll winds up with a gay and charming picture when Peg appears upon the scene : " Hebe's self I thought Enter'd the apartment. As she came she smiled. And the smile bewitching. On my word and honour, Lighted all the kitchen!" Only a few days ago a lady came to see me, who told me that she, as a child, could remember my father in Ireland com- ing to her father's home ; and Dr. Lever being invite