ed on seven hundred delicate foods, and
drank fifty royal wines--_quel coup d'oeil_! but was it not overdone,
even for a coronation--almost a vulgar luxury? And eleven is certainly
too late to begin dinner. (It was really 6.30 instead of 5.30.)

Your list of books that Cassells have refused in these weeks is not
quite complete; they also refused:--

1. Six undiscovered Tragedies, one romantic Comedy, a fragment of
Journal extending over six years, and an unfinished Autobiography
reaching up to the first performance of King John. By William
Shakespeare.

2. The Journals and Private Correspondence of David, King of Israel.

3. Poetical Works of Arthur, Iron Dook of Wellington including a Monody
on Napoleon.

4. Eight books of an unfinished novel, _Solomon Crabb_. By Henry
Fielding.

5. Stevenson's Moral Emblems.

You also neglected to mention, as _per contra_, that they had during the
same time accepted and triumphantly published Brown's _Handbook to
Cricket_, _Jones's First French Reader_, and Robinson's _Picturesque
Cheshire_, uniform with the same author's _Stately Homes of Salop_.

O if that list could come true! How we would tear at _Solomon Crabb_! O
what a bully, bully, bully business. Which would you read
first--Shakespeare's autobiography, or his journals? What sport the
monody on Napoleon would be--what wooden verse, what stucco ornament! I
should read both the autobiography and the journals before I looked at
one of the plays, beyond the names of them, which shows that Saintsbury
was right, and I do care more for life than for poetry. No--I take it
back. Do you know one of the tragedies--a Bible tragedy
too--_David_--was written in his third period--much about the same time
as Lear? The comedy, _April Rain_, is also a late work. _Beckett_ is a
fine ranting piece, like _Richard II._, but very fine for the stage.
Irving is to play it this autumn when I'm in town; the part rather suits
him--but who is to play Henry--a tremendous creation, sir. Betterton in
his private journal seems to have seen this piece; and he says
distinctly that Henry is the best part in any play. "Though," he adds,
"how it be with the ancient plays I know not. But in this I have ever
feared to do ill, and indeed will not be persuaded to that undertaking."
So says Betterton. _Rufus_ is not so good; I am not pleased with
_Rufus_; plainly a _rifaccimento_ of some inferior work; but there are
some damned fine lines. As for the purely s