y, and
modestly went out in the Poll in January 1830, after a period of suspense
during which he was apprehensive of not passing at all. Immediately
after taking his degree he went to stay with his brother-in-law, Mr.
Kerrich, at Geldestone Hall, near Beccles, where he afterwards spent much
of his time. While there, and still undecided as to his future
movements, he writes to his friend John Allen that his father had to some
extent decided for him by reducing his allowance, a measure which would
compel him to go and live in France. It was apparently not in
consequence of this, for the difficulty with his father was
satisfactorily arranged, that he went in the spring of 1830 to Paris,
where his aunt, Miss Purcell, was living. Thackeray joined him for a
short time in April, but left suddenly, and was the bearer of a hurried
letter written by FitzGerald at the Palais Royal to the friend who was at
this time his chief correspondent.
'If you see Roe (the Engraver, not the Haberdasher) give him my
remembrance and tell him I often wish for him in the Louvre: as I do
for you, my dear Allen: for I think you would like it very much. There
are delightful portraits (which you love most), and statues so
beautiful that you would for ever prefer statues to pictures. There
are as fine pictures in England: but not one statue so fine as any
here. There is a lovely and very modest Venus: and the Gladiator: and
a very majestic Demosthenes, sitting in a chair, with a roll of
writing in his hands, and seemingly meditating before rising to speak.
It is quite awful.'
FitzGerald remained in France till about the end of May, and before
leaving wrote again to Allen, not perhaps altogether seriously, yet with
more truth than he imagined, of his future mode of life.
'I start for England in a week, as I purpose now: I shall go by Havre
de Grace and Southampton, and stay for a month or two perhaps at
Dartmouth, a place on the Devonshire coast. Tell Thackeray that he is
never to invite me to his house, as I intend never to go: not that I
would not go out there rather than any place perhaps, but I cannot
stand seeing new faces in the polite circles. You must know I am
going to become a great bear: and have got all sorts of Utopian ideas
into my head about society: these may all be very absurd, but I try
the experiment on myself, so I can do no great hurt. Where I shall go
in th
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