The Sun.
London, England, 1864-01-29 00:00:00

Thackeray's Kindness to Young Literary

Men.

With many more—some his personal friends,
some his literary associates, and others who knew
him only through his works—l was an unbidden
mourner at Thackeray's funeral. The day and hour
appointed for the burial were announced in all the
papers ; and this seemed to me to be a general in-
vitation to all who loved him and held him in re-
spect. I was glad to think that there would be no
impertinence in my going to pay a last tribute of
respect to a great man who, unknown to al/ the
world but myself, had been to me in bygone days F.
kind friend—those trying days before I had made
my mark on the " World of London." It seems but
yesterday that I stood hesitating at Thackeray's door
with a long-kept letter of introduction in my head.
I had possessed that letter for years, but had never
presented it. And even now that I was ct the
dooc my courage failed me. What pretence had I
for intruding myself upon his notice ? I was but
a poor scribbler, and no doubt there were scores of
them pestering him. The audacity of my conduct
appeared all the greater when I remembered that
I had come with a manuscript in my pocket, and
that it was my intention to ask him to read it and
give his opinion upon it_ If the door-bell had
not rung readily when I gently pulled the
handle, I am sure I should have turned and run
away, as Rogers did, frightened by his own knock
at the door of Dr. Johnson, or at least wheeled round
like De Quineey when on his first pilgrimage to the
home of Wordsworth. But new the bell was rung,
and there was no retreating. A man-servant
speedily answered the summons and took away my
last chance by owning that Mr. Thaekeray was at
home. The servant took my letter and went up-stairs,
leaving me to wait in the hall. Two objects that I
saw there remain to this hour indelibly impressed
upon my mind's eve, I can sec them before me now,
and if I were an artist I could draw them accurately.
They were a hat and a pair of cloth gloves—
Thackoray's hat and gloves. It was just such a hat,
and they were just such gloves as I should have
expected Thackeray to wear; not dandified things,
but the hat and gloves of a man who bestowed little
thought upon such matters, and who probably would
not find out that they were old and worn until some
one told him it was time to get new ones. I remem-
ber that the hat, which seemed a very large one,
had a deep band of black cloth upon it, and the
gloves were also black. I dare say the smart young
porter who had just gone up-stairs with my letter
thought that hat and these gloves common, shabby
things enoagh ; but to me they were more than
mere hat and gloves, for I had never seen their
owner, and I was picturing the man from what he
wore.

The servant came down presently and asked me
to step upstairs. I followed him nervously, and
was introduced into a large, comfortably furnished
study. Thackeray was seated at one of the win-
dows with his back towards me, absorbed in work.
He did not notice my entrance for a minute or so,
and seemed to be finishing a sentence—a sentence,
perhaps, of the next number of the " Virginians,"
to which I looked forward with so much interest.
At last he turned round in his chair, and with a
pleasant smile said—
Good morning, 111 r. -; but I must toll you candidly
that I can't make out the signature attached to this letter.

I mentioned the name, and he recognised it at
once, and held out his hand to me, but still appa-
rently going on with his work.
I am very busy this morning making up for lost time ;
but came to the fire, and I'll talk to you. Take a seat.

I v7ent up beside him, and saw him at his work.
The table wac covered, not with books and papers,
as I had imagined, but with pencils and compasses,
and bits of chalk and India ink, and little square
blocks of boxwood. He was drawing, not writing,
and he was engaged at this moment upon an initial
letter, which I recognised next month in print. I
noticed now that there were no signs of the author
about the room—no blotting-pads, inkstands, or
pens—only the appliances of the draughtsman.
Going on with hie work, he asked me many ques-
tions, and chatted about books and drawings—more
about drawings than books ; and I was agret ably
surprised and considerably set at my ease by his
mentioning a little book of my own writing—a
trifling thing which it did not seem probable he
should have seen or heard of. He asked me if I
had done the drawings for it. I said "No," and
mentioned the name of the artist. After some more
pleasant chat of the same kind, still going on with
his drawing, he suddenly put down his pencil, and
turning round in his chair, said—
Well ; and how can I be of any service to you ?

I was now quite at my ease with him, and, freely
explained what particular views I had, and produced
the manuscript. He took it from me, glanced at the
title, read a few lines apparently with attention,
and then said hurriedly—
I like your subject and I like your first sentence. I will
read the paper, and if I can forward your views I will.

I thanked him, and bade him good morning, and
he rose and offered me his hand as it I had been an
old friend. Within a month from that day the ob-
ject at which I aimed was accomplished through his
recommendation and kind offices; and the good news
wcis conveyed to me in a hearty, generous letter
written with his own hand. Through that kindly
lift I speedily found myself several eteps higher on
the hill of Parnassus. Bu" I had then no more
claim to that helping he tn._ t:nn any unknown
aspirant who may be at this moment walking up
to London to find a market ".:r a book or a play.—
London Society.

FIGURATIVE NAMES OF ENGLISH WILD
FLOWERS.—SUPERSTITION AND PLANTS.--Super-
stitions, resemblances, qualities, and coincidences having
their share in the names of plants, of course the passions
must mingle in the work, end especially the greatest of
them all, Love. Artemis, one of the names of Diana, gives
its classical name to Artemisia airetanum, a plant which is
called southernwood, because it comes from the south ; Old
man, from its hoary appearance and tonic qualities; and
Boy or lad's love, from its being worn in posies by young
men, and perhaps because its leaves wither rapidly. Viola
tricolor rivals the ground-ivy in the number of its quaint
names and curious sobriquets. In French it is called pen-
sees, mduues, pensees, whence the English names pansy
or paunce, idle thoughts. Combining three 'colours in one
flower, it is called Herb Trinity, and " Three faces
under one hood." Hanging its head and half
hiding its face coquettishly, and from some resemblances in
the corolla, it has been supposed to say, " Jump up and kiss
me," "Kiss me at the garden gate," " Cuddle me to you."
It has besides other amatory MUM, such as "Love in
idleness," "Tittle my fancy," " Pink of my John." Viola
tricolor is also called heart's-ease, from b..,ing confounded
with plants yielding seeds of cardiac qualities. Much con-
fusion has arisen from the vague and fluctuating use of the
French names Giroflee, Ocillet, and Violette. They were
once all three applied to flowers of the pink tribe, but now
Giroflee has passed over to the Crucifers and become gilli-
flower (Dianthus caryophyllus) ; Oeillet has been restricted
to the Sweet NV illiam ; and Violette has been appro-
priated to the genus to which the pansy belongs. English
young ladies sometimes send pansies in their letters
to their lovers, when suffering from absence or parental re-
buffs. I have known botanists learned in structural and
systematic plant lore, who did not understand the amorous
challenge conveyed to them by post in the modest form of a
few pansies enclosed in an envelope. Sedum telephium is called
Livelong or Liblong, and Midsummer men, in reference to
a use made of it on Midsummer's-eve. A young girl will
set up two plants of it upon a plate or trencher, one for
herself, and another for her lover. If the botanical re-
presentative of her lover lives and turns to her, she con-
cludes that her lover will be faithful and constant, and
the contrary if it withers or turns from her plant—a mode
of divining the future which is founded on ignorance of the
fact that the growth of plants is towards the light.—Dickens's
"All the Year Round."
THE ILLEGITIMATE CHILDREN OF KING CHARLES
11. were popularly believed to be legion, but ho
acknowledged only (1) James Stuart, son of a young lady in
Jersey, who took holy orders and died a Catholic priest;
(2) James, Duke of Monmouth, son of Lucy Walters, exe-
cuted for treason by his uncle's command ; (3) Mary,
daughter of the same lady, married first to William Sara-
field, an Irish gentleman, and afterwards to William Fan-
shaw ; (4) Charles Fitzroy, Duke of Southampton, (5)
Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Grafton, (6) George Fitzroy, Duke
of Northumberland, and (7) Anne, Countess of Sussex—
all children of Barbara Villiers, the fierce Duchess of Cleve-
land; (8) Charles Beauelerk, Duke of St. Alban's, and (9)
James Beauclerk, sons of Nell Gwynne; (10) Charles Len-
nox, Duke of Richmond. son of Louise Querouaille, Duchess
of Portsmouth; (11) Mary Tudor, married to the heir of
Lord Derwentwater, daughter of Mary Davis; (12) Charles
Fitzcitarles, and (13) and a girl who died
of Catherine Pegge ; and young, children
(14) Charlotte Boyle, alias Fitz-
roy, wife of Sir Robert Paston, Bart., afterwards Earl of
Yarmouth, daughter of Elizabeth, Viscountess Shannon.
Three of these founded dukedoms which still exist—Graf-
ton, Richmond, and St. Albans—and other families trace
their rise to connection with the children of the last popular
Stuart.