are distinct, and the tale is not dull. As far as I can remember,
this morsel of criticism is the only one that was ever written on
the book.

I had, however, received (pounds)20. Alas! alas! years were to roll by
before I should earn by my pen another shilling. And, indeed, I
was well aware that I had not earned that; but that the money had
been "talked out of" the worthy publisher by the earnestness of
my brother, who made the bargain for me. I have known very much
of publishers and have been surprised by much in their mode of
business,--by the apparent lavishness and by the apparent hardness
to authors in the same men,--but by nothing so much as by the ease
with which they can occasionally be persuaded to throw away small
sums of money. If you will only make the payment future instead of
present, you may generally twist a few pounds in your own or your
client's favour. "You might as well promise her (pounds)20. This day six
months will do very well." The publisher, though he knows that the
money will never come back to him, thinks it worth his while to
rid himself of your importunity at so cheap a price.

But while I was writing La Vendee I made a literary attempt in
another direction. In 1847 and 1848 there had come upon Ireland
the desolation and destruction, first of the famine, and then of
the pestilence which succeeded the famine. It was my duty at that
time to be travelling constantly in those parts of Ireland in which
the misery and troubles thence arising were, perhaps, at their
worst. The western parts of Cork, Kerry, and Clare were pre-eminently
unfortunate. The efforts,--I may say, the successful efforts,--made
by the Government to stay the hands of death will still be in the
remembrance of many:--how Sir Robert Peel was instigated to repeal the