_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Hotel d'Odessa, Spezzia, _May_ 2, 1863.
"I hasten to answer and thank you for your letter. I am glad you like the line I have taken on Italy. I believe it to be the true one, and I know that it is, so far, new.
"As to my story, I'd give you my whole plan in detail at once but for this reason, which you will acknowledge to be good--that the very moment I revealed it I should be obliged to invent another! To such an extent do I labour under this unfortunate disability, that in my own family no one ever questions me as to the issue of any tale I am engaged on, well knowing that once I have discussed, I should be obliged to change it.
"You ask me how I write. My reply is, just as I live--from hand to mouth! I can do nothing continuously--that is, without seeing the printed part close behind me. This has been my practice for five-and-twenty years, and I don't think I could change it. At least, I would deem it a rash experiment to try."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Hotel d'Odessa, Spezzia, _May_ 8, 1863.
"You will have had my note about my story, and all that I have to say on that score is already said. Only that I have not written any more, nor can I, without either a proof in print or a look at my MS.; for, as I had to own to you, most ignominiously, I have only one way of writing!
And like the gentleman mentioned by Locke, who, having learned to dance in a room where there was an old hairbrush, never could accomplish a step without that accompaniment, so I must stick to my poor traditions, of which an old coat and an old ink-bottle, and a craving impatience to see how my characters look in type, are chief; and I seriously believe, if you cut me off from these--there's an end of me!
"I think there is material for a pleasant half-gossiping sort of paper on social Italy--'Life in Italian Cities,'--those strange wildernesses where rare plants and weeds live together on a pleasant equality, and where you may find the cowslip under a glass and the cactus on a dunghill. Is it not strange, there is nothing so graphic about Italy as the sketches in Byron's letters? Perhaps it was the very blending of Dirt and Deity in himself led him into the exact appreciation.
"My hand o' write is none of the clearest, but I'll do my best to be legible _to_ you and _by_ you; and with my hearty thanks for your very cordial note."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Hotel d'Odessa, Spezzia, _May_ 16, 1863.
"Thanks for your note and its enclosure, which reached me this morning.
"I am glad you have understood what, after I had sent it off, appeared to me a very unintelligible note, being in fact an attempt to explain what even to myself is not explicable--the [only] mode in which I can write a story.
"You are perfectly right as to looking at the thing in proof: it is the same test as the artists' one of seeing their drawing in a looking-glass,--all that is good is confirmed, and all that is out of drawing or wrong in perspective is just as sure of being displayed strongly.
"If your opinion be favourable, the point which will most interest me to know is the time of publishing; for, seeing that I want some material which I can only obtain by personal intercourse, the longer the interval, moderately speaking, the better for me.
"Secondly. Should we travel this road together, I want to beg that you will be as free to tell me what you think of what I send as though I was the rawest recruit in literature. I never write with the same spirit as under such criticism--given when not too late to amend; and if anything reaches you that you think ill of, do not hesitate to say so at once. I can change--in fact, it is the one compensation for all the inartistic demerits of my way of work--I can change as easily as I can talk of changing. These are all that I want to stipulate for on my part; the rest is with you. I am so eager to get on, that when you send me a proof (I cannot till then) I'll have at it at once. Meanwhile I lie in the sun and suck oranges."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Hotel d'Odessa, Spezzia, _May_ 28, 1863.
"Though I have been, not without some anxiety, waiting for a proof of my story, or some tidings of it,--for I cannot go on without a clue,--I now write to send you a paper on 'Why Italy has not Done More,' knowing from my own experiences the benefit of being early in Mag. 'make up.'
"I hope much you will like it. If you think that any addition to it would be necessary, or in fact, if you have any changes to suggest, pray let me know."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Hotel d'Odessa, Spezzia, _June_ 25, 1863.
"I have just received your pleasant note and its enclosure. How your promptitude tells of a long intimacy with Grub Street!
"As to quantity, 18 sheets of the D. U. M. used to suffice for a 3-vol.
novel; but it shall be more--20 if you like. I always feel with the hostess in 'The Honeymoon.'When reproached for her liquor, she excused herself by saying that as she knew it was bad, she gave short measure.
"One _contretemps_ or another has knocked me out of work latterly; but when the proof reaches me I'll get into harness and pull away.
"Is it amongst the possible things to see you ever--this side o' the Alps? It would be a great pleasure to me to hear it was, not to say the _positive advantage_ of having a gossip with you.
"The Mag. arrives most regularly and is a great pleasure to me. There is (to me) a memory of school-days in the grim old face on the cover, that brings back more flitting thoughts of long ago than I believed could have been evoked by anything."
_To Mr John Blackwood_
[Undated.]
"First of all, I thank you for your kind note, and say with what real pride I shall see myself in your columns. 'Ebony' has been an ambition of mine since my boyhood. I send you all that I know about Italy in an article I have boiled down from an ox to a basin of broth, and only hope it may suit your palate. I send you the opening of the Garibaldi romance. To give all the realism so necessary for a story of adventure, I was obliged to set out very quietly. Let me have your opinion as soon as conveniently you can. I quite agree with you about the mystery as to the authorship, and will answer for my part. Don't forget to send me 'Maga' when out."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Spezzia, _June_ 26, 1863.
"It has happened to me more than once, when particularly anxious to do well, to make a fiasco of it. I have the same anxiety now; and to put me at my ease, if there be anything you like in these, say so, for, like most of my countrymen, I thrive better on kindnesses than on kicks."
_To Mr John Blackwood._
"Spezzia, _July_ 26,1863.
"I send by this post one sheet and half--or nearly--of 'Tony' corrected for the Nov. No., being, I suspect, as much as your readers would swallow at a time. Let chap. ix. end where I have marked, and I'll try, if I can, to put in the missing link, which, as you observe, occurs at that place.
"Of course M'Casky 'is extravagant,' but I'll swear to you not more so than scores of real flesh-and-blood men in the land he came from.
"My home critics say that all that political part at Naples is dull and heavy. I don't think it so; besides, I have endeavoured to assure them that there is in novel-writing a principle, analogous to what chemists find in active medicinal substances, and which they profanely called 'inert matte,' but which, if our knowledge were greater, would doubtless display some marvellous property of either enhancing some other gift or restraining some latent power of mischief. Are you of my mind?--because if, unhappily, you side with _them_, you are at full liberty to cut away as much about Maitland's politics as you like or dislike.
"My hope is that, with the portion now in print by me and that already sent, you will have enough for December and January too. I say this, for I start to-day for a yachting ramble down the coast, and am in for idleness till the hot weather is over. It is 90 something in what represents shade; and what with the smell of oranges and the glow, I feel as if I were sitting in a pot of hot marmalade.
"At all events send me proof; be as critical, but as merciful, as you can."