To Mr John Blackwood.

“Trieste, Jan. 31, 1872.

“I am ordered off to Fiume for change of air—the change of scene that is to affect me is somewhat farther. Before I go I send you two O’Ds. that have been under my hands these few weeks back. Whether they be print-worthy or not, you will know and decide; if so, I shall be back to correct and add another by the time a proof could reach me.

“I am in a very creaky condition, and why I hold together at all I don’t understand. Like the MegÆra, all the attempts to stop the leak only widens the breach.”

To Mr John Blackwood.

“Trieste, Feb. 15, 1872.

“It was an angel from heaven suggested to your wife the thought of a run out here. Only come and I’ll go with you to Japan if you like. There are no two people in the world I should rather see, and though the place is a poor one and I a dull dog, the thought of seeing you here would brighten us both up, as the mere notion has cheered me already.”

To Mr John Blackwood.

“Trieste, Feb. 26, 1872.

“I send you (and thus early to be in time for next month) a short sketchy story which, as the man said of the Athanasian Creed, is founded on fact, but not the better (I mean the story) for that.

“It has a moral too, or rather several morals, to be distributed according to age and sex, and, in fact, is a ‘righte merrie’ and well conceived tale, as I hope you will tell me.

“I had fully made up my mind to write no more, and to water my grog to enable me to do so, but I now discover that neither of my two daughters like ‘watered grog’ at all, but prefer whatever dietary habit has inured them to. ‘For this reason and for the season’ I am at it once more, though my ink-bottle looks as ruefully at me as the Yankees at Gladstone for backing out of the N. Y. Convention.

“By the way, I hope you have printed my correct version of the Alabama; I know it is the true one, and as I am the only discoverer, I am jealous about my invention.

“I had a grand argument to arraign the Ministry on the Collier job (which no one hit on), but coming at this d———d corner of Europe it was too late, and lost.

“I feel that the day after I am buried here some bright notion will occur to me and make me very uncomfortable in my grave. I have a dress rehearsal of this misery three times a-week, and gout all the time besides.

“Send me news of your plans and projects, if any of them tend this way. I shall have a ‘thanksgiving day’ of my own, and be grateful, without scarlet cloth or Mr Aytoun on the Board of Ws.”

To Mr John Blackwood.

“Trieste, March 9 and 11.

“I begin your note now, not intending to finish till I see if the post, a couple of days hence, may bring me some news of my short story, ‘Some one Pays.’ Meanwhile I have time to thank you heartily for your note and its contents, and to say what courage you give me by the hope that Mrs Blackwood is really serious about coming out here. As a short tour nothing could be nicer than to come out by Brussels, Munich, and Vienna (and through Trieste), back by Venice, Milan, Florence, Turin, and the Mont Cenis to Paris. I am seriously anxious that you should have a number of interesting places to see, and that the journey should repay you thoroughly. Dull as the place is, every one needs some rest in a tour, and Trieste can come in as your halt, and all the pleasure your visit will give us will be your recompense for enduring our stupidity.

“Monson, who is here on his way to his post (Consul-General at Pesth), is just fresh from a visit to Lyons at Paris, where he met Lord Derby. It seems that Lord D. spoke very frankly and confidently of Gladstone’s speedy fall, and of the Tories ascent to power, even to the extent of the distribution of office, who was to be Sec. at F. O., &c.”

To Mr John Blackwood.

“Trieste, March 30, 1872.

“When I was thinking I was getting better I have fallen back again into short-breathing, heart-fluttering, and grampus-blowing bad as ever.

“I send you an absurd ‘O’Dowd’ to add to the ‘Widows,’ when you publish it. Rose comes here from Constantinople in a day or so, and by the time I shall receive the proof I shall probably have some secret details of Tichborne worth telling.

“If you and Mrs B. can come out here I think I shall persuade myself to live on till May at all events. I am resolved to meet you this spring, somewhere, anywhere. Whenever you can make your plans let me hear.

“I am rejoiced that you like my Albanian sketch story, and hope it will take.

“I wish you had time to look at ‘Kilgobbin.’ The talk is good enough—the story bad as can be.”

To Mr John Blackwood.

“Trieste, April 9, 1872.

“A word to disabuse the world of the need of a ‘Political Programme’ which is well-timed just v now; and I send you a short O’D. to add to the others.

“I feel certain you will agree with my notion, and my only misgiving is, have I made myself clear enough?

“I have had a very sharp brush these last few days, and I am still wrestling with the enemy. I own I do not come up smiling after each round, but looking horribly grim. Let me only hear when there is a chance of seeing you and Mrs B. and your little girl, and I’ll at once apply for a renewal of my lease of life, though it be only for a week or two.”

To Mr John Blackwood.

“Trieste, April 11,1872.

“It was only yesterday I sent off a short O’D. on the English demand for a ‘Political Programme,’ and I hope it has reached you, and more, that it is readable, for my hand and my head are degenerating pari passu.

“To-day I have got your welcome note, for which I thank you heartily. It will do me more good to see you than all my tinctures, and pray tell Mrs Blackwood she is quite right to bring her little girl with her. The journey, the new scenes and new faces, will be the healthiest excitement to a young mind, and, whether as correcting old ideas or storing up new ones, is a form of education not to be had of books or to be satisfied by governesses.

“You are really a good fellow to come and see me in a cabin. I can only say if it were a palace you would be equally welcome, and more welcome you could not be.

“I’ll not promise to go to England. I have scarcely wind for a ‘three-mile heat,’ but I’ll take a short run with you somewhere, and we’ll concert it when we meet. Rob. Lytton wrote to me a few days ago, and said how he hoped to see you. His wife has just had a boy, which I am heartily glad of, as they lately lost their only son. Mrs L. is the most charming, natural, and nice creature it is possible to imagine, and the crowning good fortune of Robert’s life is to have met her.

“From Vienna here—you can do it in one day—fourteen and a half hours; but if you prefer to halve it, there is a nice halting-place, Gratz, Styria, where you arrive about three o’clock and leave the following day about the same: the HÔtel Elephant is excellent.

“Sydney and her man are at the Burlington, and well too—also their mother,—and can get you every detail of the journey via whichever route you take. I think you are right to come by Germany and go back by Italy, though it be against the precepts of climate, but that Germany after Italy is like following a strawberry ice with sauerkraut. I think ‘Just like Rye’ will be the best title for the ‘O’Dowd,’ and ‘taking’ as well as appropriate. Rose is still at Constantinople, I believe, trying to get the tobacco monopoly from the Government,—a huge affair of some millions sterling.

“The weather up to this was splendid here; now it has become ‘more Irish and less nice,’ and I fancy is one of the reasons of my maladies. One loves to lean on such subtleties, like the alderman who ascribed his health to his always having a strawberry in his wine-glass.”