l
letters," assuring him that "his fame in song has done them much wrong."
How interesting it would be to ascertain the name of the author of that
immortal "spiteful letter"! Probably many persons have felt that they
could make a good guess; no less probably they have been mistaken.

In no way can the recipient avoid making enemies of the authors of all
these communications if he is at all an honest, irascible man. Mr.
Dickens used to reply to total strangers, and to poets like Miss Ada
Menken, with a dignified and sympathetic politeness which disarmed wrath.
But he probably thereby did but invite fresh trouble of the same kind.
Mr. Thackeray (if a recently-published answer was a fair specimen) used
to answer more briefly and brusquely. One thing is certain. No
criticism not entirety laudatory, which the Involuntary Bailee may make
of his correspondent's MS., will be accepted without remonstrance.
Doubtless Lord Tennyson has at last chosen the only path of safety by
declining to answer his unknown correspondents, or to return their
rubbish, any more.

Of course, it is a wholly different affair when the anonymous
correspondent sends several brace of grouse, or a salmon of noble
proportions, or rare old books bound by Derome, or a service of Worcester
china with the square mark, or other tribute of that kind. Probably some
dozen of rhymers sent Lord Tennyson amateur congratulatory odes when he
was raised to the peerage. If he is at all like other poets, he would
have preferred a few dozen of extremely curious old port, or a Villon
published by Galiot du Pre, or a gold nugget, or some of the produce of
the diamond mines, to any number of signed congratulations from total
strangers. Actors seem to receive nicer tributes than poets. Two brace
of grouse were thrown on the stage when Mr. Irving was acting in a
northern town. This is as picturesque as, and a great deal more
permanently enjoyable than, a shower of flowers and wreaths. Another day
a lady threw a gold cross on the stage, and yet another enthusiast
contributed rare books appropriately bound. These gifts will not, of
course, be returned by a celebrity who respects himself; but they bless
him who gives and him who takes, much more than tons of manuscript
poetry, and thousands of entreaties for an autograph, and millions of
announcements that the writer will be "proud to drink your honour's noble
health."

SUMMER NIGHTS.

If the best of all ways