Although he left Ireland in pique, and although he gave his friends the impression that he was leaving it for ever, it is doubtful if Lever had arrived at any definite decision concerning his future movements when he set out from Templeogue. It may be judged from the letter which he wrote to Spencer upon his arrival in Brussels that he had at the back of his mind an idea of returning, after a brief period of exile, to his native country.

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Brussels, Feb. 28, 1845.

“On my way through London I made certain publishing arrangements which can be fulfilled either by a residence abroad or in Ireland; and it is a matter of grave debate with what to decide upon. Meanwhile, I should like the power to resume my tenure of Templeogue, and would be greatly gratified if you could make such an arrangement with Gogarty* that I could hold on till the end of June or July on payment of a certain sum (say £50), and in the event of returning continue my tenancy as before. Should Gogarty make any arrangement to this purpose, pray then communicate with Bennett the auctioneer, and do not let him sell the oak or anything else, save the old lace given to him by my wife. If there be a great difficulty with Gogarty, I should rather retain the house and let it for the season in the event of my not returning. The other alternative of being turned out of a place which suits me so well [? is hateful].

“We have, malgrÉ two stormy nights at sea, [? progressed] admirably. The children are in great health and spirits, and enjoying their old haunts here in perfect ecstasies.

“The weather here is cold beyond anything. Snow and ice everywhere. Stoves and fur coats are able for it, however, and the elasticity of the air is actual champagne after the muddy small beer of a Dublin day.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“HÔtel Britannique, Brussels, March 22,1845.

“I am regularly installed here in capital quarters at the HÔtel Britannique, with every comfort in the midst of much attentions and civilities on all sides. The Rhine is frozen and the highroads ten or twelve feet deep in snow, so that further travelling is for the present out of the question, nor do I much regret it. We are well housed, fed, and entertained—away from the worry of Curry & Co., and at least enjoying tranquillity—if not deriving other benefits....

“There has been great delay about my book, ‘St Patrick’s Eve,’ but I hope by the time this reaches you, you will have received a copy. I am anxious you should like it, because, apart from any literary [? vanity], I have taken the opportunity of saying my mot sur l’Irelande which, whether unfounded or true, is at least sincere.”

Pleasantly situated and infected with the gaiety of life in a Continental capital, Lever quickly forgot his editorial worries. The calumnies, the neglect, and the hard knocks which he had suffered at the hands of political and journalistic opponents in Ireland were forgotten or forgiven, and doubtless it was while he was enjoying this charitable and happy frame of mind that he penned his “Word at Parting,” which was printed in the August number of ‘The Dublin University.’ (A publishers note accompanied the “Word,” explaining that it should have appeared in the issue for July.) He proclaims: “I abdicate at goodwill with all my fellow-labourers, and for reasons so purely personal that I feel it would be an act of egotism to obtrude them on public notice.” Then he goes on to say that he would have left the stage in silence,—there was not infrequently a hint of the theatre about his sayings and doings,—if he did not consider that his silence might be regarded as an act of ingratitude to a public who had contributed so much to his happiness, and who were so dear to his memory.

To the Rev. John Lever.

“Brussels, May 18, 1846.

“Etienne [or Steeni] has just arrived safely with all his menagerie in good condition,—not even a scratch on the horses,—and his newly-bought phaeton [? is] a perfect bijou, and when harnessed with my two new ponies, a perfect park equipage, and already the envy of Belgium and the Belgians.

“Will you think me a very shabby fellow if I ask you to give me back a gift? I would not make the request for myself or mine, but I am differently circumstanced at this moment. Sir Hamilton Seymour, whose kindness to me is hourly and increasing, has asked me to initiate him into the art or mystery of equestrianising his nursery, and even gone so far as to beg me to get him a pony. Will you give me Prince for him? I would not, as I have said, ask him for myself, but there are obligations which really weary by repetition, and I, who have not found too many such friends in the world, begin to feel a kind of depression at being the recipient of bounties. Pray, then, forgive me, and don’t think me the meanest fellow in the world.

“If I am not asking more than I dare, will you send the beastie to Dublin and have him shipped—Saturday morning—by long sea for London, where Mr Pearce will meet him on landing, and take care of him. I am ashamed (I cannot say more or less) of all this, but I own to you I feel I am on safe ground that you will not judge me unfairly or harshly. ‘I’m in a dead fix, and that’s a fact,’ as the Yankees say. It is rather of consequence that he should be sent off by the Saturday’s Dublin Packet, because the Antwerp boat leaves London on Thursday morning, and if the pony were not despatched by that day he should stay a week in London. Smith, the gardener at Temple-ogue, would assist in getting him comfortably installed by giving one of the sailors 10s. to mind him during the voyage. He could be cared for—hay and bran being of course provided....

“I shall write a line to Saunders by this post to assist so far as regards payment of various expenses, land and sea. The beastie should be well muffled up against cold.

“I have only one word to add. If all this be impracticable, difficult, or impossible, get Dycer to buy me the smallest, roughest, most shelty, ‘Princely’ pony that can be had. I don’t care if he costs a little more than a horse-fancier would say was his value. £10 or £15 I’ll give if necessary.”

After a pleasant experience of entertaining and of being entertained in Brussels, after a round of visits to salons and to picture-galleries, excursions to Waterloo and elsewhere, Lever decided to set out upon a tour through Belgium and up the Rhine. He was accompanied by the full strength of his household, and about the middle of June he bade good-bye once more to Brussels.

His first halting-place of importance was Bonn.

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Hotel bellevue, Bonn, June 24, 1845.

“I have certainly the gift of what the French call the mÉmoire de l’escalier, or the faculty of remembering on the stairs what should have been said in the drawing-room....

“I am gaining in health and spirits and losing in flesh and depression, wellnigh down to 12 stone (vice 14 1/2), and I can exercise from morning till night without feeling the slightest fatigue, and eat of everything most sour, greasy, and German, and never know the penalty of indigestion. For the three years I passed in Ireland I had not as many days of health as I have already enjoyed here. This, though very favourable to comfort, seems little conducive to hard labour, for I cannot write a line, and really do nothing save amuse myself from morning till night. The temptations are strong: we have the Rhine and the mountains beside us, and, as we are all mounted, we pass the days on horseback or on the water. We dine at one! and so have a very long evening.... Let me hear how you like No. 7 [The] O’D[onoghue] when you read it.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Carlsruhe (or Bonn), July 26, 1845.

“...My mind is at ease by thinking that I owe nothing to or in Ireland save my affection for John* and yourself....

“My friend James has been spending a week with me here.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Carlsruhe, Aug. 10, 1846.

“Your letter followed me here from Bonn, from which delightful little sojourn a royal visit and a musical festival had driven me,—Queen Victoria and Beethoven, with the due accompaniment of bonfires, blue lights, and bassoons, being too much for my common nerves. Here we are for the present, located, as the Yankees say, in the stillest, quietest, most fast-asleep of all German cities, regularly, even beautifully, built,—with a Grand Duke and a Ministry and a corps diplomatique, but all seemingly mesmerised into a dreamy lethargy, in which all speech or motion is excluded. We had some thoughts of passing a winter here, but though it would suit my pocket well, my impatience and restlessness could scarcely stand the sluggish tranquillity.... I am unable to say where we shall pass the winter. There was some thought of Lausanne, but all Switzerland is dear, and our party is a large one—ten souls and five quadrupeds.”

In sleepy Carlsruhe he received two letters which disturbed him considerably,—one causing him the gravest annoyance and anxiety, the other affording him intense and justifiable joy.

The unpleasant communication was from Curry & Co. It took the form of a statement of account between publisher and author, and showed that the latter was heavily indebted to the former. Lever wrote to his fidus Achates in Dublin, expressing his goodwill for Curry & Co., who had hitherto treated him fairly. He declared that he had no desire to quarrel with them. “I detest,” he wrote, “the hackneyed fightings of bookseller and author,”—but he denied emphatically that he owed the money claimed by Curry.

The pleasant letter was from Miss Edgeworth. He had written to her twice from Templeogue, inquiring if he might dedicate to her ‘Tom Burke of Ours.’ Miss Edgeworth replied tardily. In the course of her welcome letter, the author of ‘Castle Rackrent’ spoke of having read aloud to her nephews and nieces ‘The O’Donoghue,’ which was appearing in monthly parts,—an announcement which afforded the author of ‘The O’Donoghue’ a thrill of delight, animated him with high hopes, and filled him with fresh ambitions. To Spencer he wrote: “I hope John told you—I’d rather he had than I—of a letter Miss Edgeworth wrote to me about ‘O’Donoghue.’ I never felt so proud in my life as in reading it. There is, independent of all flattering, so much of true criticism, so much of instructive guidance, that for the first time I begin to feel myself able to take advice with advantage, and to hope that I have stuff in me for something like real success. What a prerogative true genius possesses when it can compensate by one word of praise for neglect and calumny! So do I feel that Miss Edgeworth has repaid me for all the bitterness and injustice of my Irish critics. I never made such an effort as in this book. I hope sincerely that you may think I have not failed, for with all my reliance on your friendship, I feel your criticism will be as free from prejudice as so warm and affectionate a friend’s can be.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Baden-Baden, Sept. 8, 1846.

“Your kind and satisfactory letter reached me here, where we have been sojourning in one of the sweetest valleys in the world,—a perfect wilderness of vineyards and olives, traversed by innumerable streams, and inhabited by a happy people. This day twelvemonth we were at Achill in the midst of dire poverty, when the very waves that thundered along the seashore were less stormy than the passions of man beside them. And yet in one case the law of the land is Despotism, and in the other there are the blessings (!) of the English constitution. So much have political privileges to do with human happiness. In my own narrow experience, I should say that the most contented communities are those that know not how they are governed.

“As to my reserve fund, my intention is this—calculating loosely. That between Daily (?), Clarence Street, and the Templeogue furniture, something like £250 may result, which with the £350 already in bank will make £600 (John’s £100 added). I will myself lay by £300 more to make up £1000, the interest of which will meet one of the small nuisances, and thus make a beginning—whether to end in anything more or not [? who can say], for I am most unhappily gifted in the organ of secretiveness. M’Glashan is far more eager to purchase my contingent copyright than he lets it be known. I am well aware that such has been a long time since a favourite object with him, but he’s a thorough fox, and likes to be pushed on to his own inclinations.

“I have been fearfully walked into by that firm, but for many reasons would rather bear it all now than make what the Duke calls ‘a little war.’

“If the fine weather continues—it is glorious now—we shall spend the month of October here, as by far the pleasantest spot I’ve set upon, and then return to Carlsruhe for the winter. I’ll endeavour to pick up an Irishman as a witness to the deeds and send them back at once.”

In Baden he spent a couple of pleasant months, though it is hinted that he lost heavily at the gaming-tables there. An anecdote of these Baden days is told by him. At a public dance an English lady of rank had declined many offers of partners, not deeming any of the gentlemen good enough for her. At length she was attracted by a handsome well-dressed German who spoke English fluently. He made himself so agreeable to the fine lady that she accepted his invitation to dance. She inquired who he was, and was informed that he was the Oberkellner at the Gasthaus von Rose. Under the impression that this meant that the favoured gentleman occupied a high official position, the lady danced boldly with him throughout the remainder of the night. When she consulted her dictionary next morning she was horrified to discover that “Oberkellner” was “head-waiter “!

Lever was now fit for work again, and he sketched out the plan of a new novel which he proposed to call ‘Corrig O’Neill.’ He sent this sketch to his literary counsellor, Mortimer O’Sullivan, instructing him to show it to M’Glashan. This novel was never written, but some of the material was used by the author later for ‘The Daltons.’ It was possibly his ill-luck at roulette, and a desire for quietness and retrenchment, which drove him back in October to drowsy Carlsruhe. He set earnestly to work at a new story, ‘The Knight of Gwynne.’ He forwarded the early chapters to his brother John.

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Stephanie Strasse, Carlsruhe, Nov. 16, 1846.

“Has John sent you—if not, get it—the opening chapter of my new tale, ‘The Knight of Gwynne’? I hope you may like it. I have a great object in view—no less than to show that the bribed men of the Irish Parliament are the very men who now are joining the Liberal ranks, and want to assist O’Connell in bringing back the Parliament they once sold, and would sell again if occasion offered. Of course, a story with love and murder is the vehicle for such a dose of ‘bitters.’

“Will you also ask John to write half a dozen lines to M. O’Sullivan, requesting him to forward to your care a MS. of mine which John sent him, and which I would beg you to keep (and read if you like) for me? It was my originally intended story before I began my ‘Knight of Gwynne.’”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Carlsruhe: dated Jan. 7,1846 (at top), and Dec. 6,1846 (at foot).

“Being at that time of the year when one’s creditors change their outward form and become duns, I am obliged to see where I can find anything available to meet them. I perceive in a letter of yours the remark that no a/c of sales of ‘Hinton’ has been rendered by the Currys for the past year—i.e., since October 1844, and in a letter from M’Glashan that my share of Indian profits amounts to £52, 10s., I think. Would you see after these small sums for me, as I am really worried and vexed by the rascality of Orr and M’Glashan, who have cheated me in the most outrageous fashion on two small works—‘Nuts’ and ‘Trains’—I gave them for publication? M. O’Sullivan writes me that under John’s advice and sanction he gave my MS. of ‘Corrig O’Neill’ to M’Glashan to ‘look at,’ he, M’G., having applied to him for this. I desired no further dealings or doings with that d———d Scotchman, and well he knows it, for while asking to see my MS. he was in possession of a letter from me telling him I should have no further dealings with him.

“I find that my expenses are overwhelmingly great here. Wasteful habits dog me wherever I go, and I am obliged to think twice how I shall get through the year. I suppose Gogarty takes Templeogue at once. Is there any use of reminding him of his pledge to repurchase the furniture at the price I paid,—he gave his word of honour (!!!) to do so?

“If the settlement about ‘Hinton’ and the Indian copyright should not be easily effected now, let the matter lie over to meet the Insurances, only take measures to have the money forthcoming then, for I know well I’ll not have sixpence to spare the whole year through. I hear (confidentially) that Remy* is about to review me again in ‘The Mail,’ He be d———d! I’ve outlived such beggarly support. Is there an opinion of the ‘K. of Gwynne’ stirring in Dublin? My London accts. all so far satisfactory.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Carlsruhe, Jan. 19, 1846.

“I have been expecting somewhat anxiously to have heard from you or M’G. relative to my late proposition, but suppose that the crafty Highlander has preferred to lie by in the hope that I would reply to a late communication of his which, in terms of great affected cordiality, asks for a renewal of our dealings together. To this I have not made, nor shall I make, any answer, nor will I write to him until he definitely says something in answer to my application for the sale of my copyrights.

“Yesterday my plate and linen arrived here quite safe. The books, I have just learned, are at Dusseldorf, where, the Rhine being now frozen, they must remain.

“You have before this read ‘The Knight.’ I hope your good opinion continues unabated. Are there any critiques in the Irish papers? ‘The Mail,’ I hear, will notice me now. Perhaps the Repealers think they have found a backer. Let them hug the belief till the 4th No., and I shall clear away the delusions.

“I have hints of a deep intrigue on the M’Glashan side to injure any dealings I may have with the London publishers. I am greatly provoked at M’Glashan being suffered to see my MS. of ‘Corrig O’Neill.’ It was a false move, and will [? inconvenience] me very considerably. He affected a half permission on my part which never was asked nor ever alluded to.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Carlsruhe, Jan. 26,1646.

“I think you over-estimate the value of the copyrights, and would gladly take £200 per vol.,—that is, £800 for ‘Hinton,’ ‘Burke,’ and ‘The O’Donoghue’; but if the Currys are likely to make a proposal, it is best to wait patiently. For although your calculation is perfectly correct as to proportion, ‘Hinton’ was a more than usually successful book, and too favourable to form a standard to measure others by. ‘O’D.’ will, however, I am given to believe, eventually rival it.

“I yesterday received a long and confidential letter from Lord Douro. The split in the Cabinet was not all on corn. The Duke wanted to give up the commandership-in-chief, and the Queen, folle de son mari, actually insisted on Prince Albert succeeding him,—an appointment which, if made, would outrage the service and insult the whole nation. To avoid such a coup the Duke was induced to hold on and save us—for the present, at least—from such a humiliation. As to the announcements in ‘The Times,’ and the disclosure of Cabinet secrets, the story is rather amusing. Lord Douro says, ‘If my father’s beard only heard him mutter in his sleep, he’d shave at bedtime.’ But Sidney Herbert is more in love and less discreet, for he actually told Mrs Norton what had occurred at the Council, and she sold the information to ‘The Times’ for a very large sum!* Even in Virgil he might have read a nice lesson on this head,—but I suppose his classical readings were more of Ovid latterly. Corn is doomed, and the Irish Church to be doomed—not now, but later. The League have secured four counties and several boroughs. As to war: the Duke says he could smash the Yankees, and ought to do so while France is in her present humour,—and Mexico opens the road to invasion in the South—not to speak of the terrible threat which Napier uttered, that with two regiments of infantry and a field battery he’d raise the Slave population in the Southern States.

“The remark you heard at Curry’s about my Repealism is no new thing. M’G. tried to fasten the imputation upon me when I sold ‘St Patrick’s Eve’ to the London publishers, and the attempt to revive it displays his game. A very brief hint would make the Repeal editors adopt it for present gain and future attack when they discovered their error. However, the deception will not be long-lived, and I think on the appearance of No. 4 few will repeat the charge.

“Wilson (of Blackwood’s) has written me a long letter of such encouragement that, even bating its flattery, makes me stout-hearted against small critics and their barkings, and I am emboldened to hope that I am improving as a writer. One thing I can answer for,—no popularity I ever had, or shall have, will make me trifle with the public by fast writing and careless composition. Dickens’s last book* has set the gravestone on his fame, and the warning shall not be thrown away.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Carlsruhe, March 6, 1846.

“I hope you continue to like my ‘Knight,’ of which I receive favourable opinions from the press and the publishers. I am told it is better writing and better comedy than anything I have done yet. Pray let me have your judgment—not sparingly, but in all candour.

“I sent a little article to M’Glashan about Fairy Tales, and he writes to me as if the paper was a review. I have not written, expecting a second advice from him containing a proof, but meanwhile would you scratch him a line addressed to D’Olier Street, saying I have received his note, and will correct the proof with pleasure, but that the paper* is not a review of any one, and that the two first tales are Danish,—the last is my own. Would you also ascertain if he is disposed to entertain his own project of my continuing ‘Continental Gossipings’ for the Magazine, and subsequently publishing them in one or two vols., and if he would make any proposal as to terms? This latter I would rather not mention in a note, but as a subject of chatting whenever occasion offered.

“The weather here has been like July, and the Rhine is like crystal. We have large bouquets of spring flowers on the dinner-table every day, and the buds are bursting forth everywhere. We shall in a few weeks more resume our wanderings. Meanwhile I must press forward with my ‘Knight,’ which for some weeks I have shelved entirely.”

To Mr Alexander Spencer.

“Stephanie Strasse, Cablsruhe, March 29, 1846.

“I am working away at my ‘Knight,’ and have in the 7th No. got him into as pleasant a mess of misfortunes as any gentleman (outside a novel) ever saw himself involved in. I hear excellent accounts of his progress in England, and have destined him to a long life—twenty numbers. This at the publisher’s request rather than of my own convictions,—though I need scarcely say, to my great convenience.... Let me hear your mot of No. 4, which I think is the best of the batch.”

Carlsruhe at first was a seductive place, “where life glided on peaceably, and the current had neither ripple nor eddy.” It had no riotous pleasures; it was equally free from the things that annoy—no malignant newspapers, no malevolent enemies, no treacherous or patronising friends. He had a good house, a first-rate chef, six horses, and plenty of society,—a corps diplomatique of pleasant folk and their wives; cheerful reunions every evening; sometimes a dinner at the Grand Duke’s Court. There were no professional beauties, no geniuses, no bores. G. P. R James and himself were the cynosure of all eyes, and there were whist-parties every night.

In this elysium it was no wonder that his spirits were elevated, and that he worked with a will. The only rifts within the lute were the difficulty of disposing satisfactorily of his interest in Templeogue House and his disputations with Curry and M’Glashan.

Suddenly the sleepy paradise changed into a sleepy and contemptible inferno. There was no revolution, no change in the Grand Ducal system, nobody in Carlsruhe became any better or worse, nobody was any wiser or more foolish,—but the Grand Ducal city is described as a “pettifogging little place, with a little court, a little army, a little aristocracy, a little bourgeoisie, a little diplomatic circle, little shops, and very little money.” In compensation for these littlenesses there was a flood of gossip and “any amount of etiquette.” The people of the Grand Duchy had no commerce, no manufactories, no arts, no science,—no interests, in fact, save in the small ceremonial life of the court, no amusements except soirees held in ill-lighted rooms, where an ill-dressed company talked scandal, military slang, and cookery—how to dress a corporal or a cutlet. From this “dreary atmosphere of local sewers, stale tobacco-smoke, and sour cabbage,” he was glad to escape.

Major Dwyer attempts to account for the changed aspect of Carlsruhe. He describes Lever as being too fond of display and too outspoken. It was his habit to gallop through the quiet streets with his wife and children, all attired in very showy habiliments. The ponderosity and solemnity of the little court occasionally tickled him, and he laughed openly. Court etiquette, too, was a source of amusement, and he violated its rules in a manner which horrified the stolid courtiers. Upon one occasion he invited to a whist-party at his house the Hof Marschall (or Lord Chamberlain), Kotzebue, Secretary to the Russian Embassy, and some other notabilities. The Hof Marschall—doubtless acting upon the same impulses which had actuated Archbishop Whately when he absented himself from the dinner-party at Temple-ogue—did not arrive, and, worse still, sent no apology. Lever was very angry, and he made some outrageous verbal jokes at the expense of Grand Dukes, Hof Marschalls, and Gross Herzogs. The upshot of the matter was that the Irish novelist found Carlsruhe “too hot to hold him”; so (still accompanied by his “menagerie”) he bade good-bye to G. P. R. James and to the Grand Duchy of Baden-Baden, and, travelling somewhat in gipsy fashion through the Black Forest, he reached the borders of Tyrol in the month of May 1846.