Letters & Literary Remains of Edward Fitzgerald Volume 1

Price 17.99 - 35.36 USD

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated.1902 Excerpt: ... To "John Allen. Wherstead Lodge, Ipswich.1 June 31 (so) 1834. Dear My Johnny, I have been reading the Spectator since I have been here: and I like ifvery much. Don"t you think it would make a nice book to publish all the papers about Sir Roger de Coverley alone, with illustrations by Thackeray? It is a thing that is wanted: to bring that standard of the old English Gentleman forward out of the mass of little topics, and fashions, that occupy the greater part of the Spectator. Thackeray has illustrated my Undine in about fourteen little coloured drawings--very nicely.... I am here in the country in brave health: rising at six withal: and pruning of rose trees in the garden. Why don"t you get up early? in the summer at least. The next time we meet in town I mean to get an artist to make me your portrait: for I often wish for it. It must be looking at me. Now write very soon: else I shall be gone: and know that I am your very true friend, E. F. G. 1 Wherstead Lodge on the West bank of the Orwell, about two miles from Ipswich, formerly belonged to the Vernon family. The FitzGeralds lived there for about ten years, from 1825 to 1835, when they removed to Boulge, near Woodbridge, the adjoining parish to Bredfield. Geldestone Hall, Sept. 9 1834. Dear Allen, I have really nothing to say, and I am ashamed to be sending this third letter all the way from here to Pembrokeshire for no earthly purpose: but I have just received yours: and you will know how very welcome all your letters are to me when you seehow the perusal of this one has excited me to such an instant reply. It has indeed been a long time coming: but it is all the more delicious. Perhaps you can"t imagine how wistfully I have looked for it: how, after a walk, my eyes have turned to the table, on coming i...