Cleveland daily leader. [volume] ([Cleveland, Ohio]) 1865-1873, 1865-11-16

The following characteristic letter from
the great novelist was written to Mr..
William Reed, of Philadelphia, in 1853.
1t is taken from a pamphlet privately
printed last year:
NEUFCHATEL, SWITZERLAND
July 81, 1858.
MY DEAR REED Though 1 am rather
slow in paying the tailor, 1 always pay
him; and as with %tailors, so with men; l
pay mydebts to my friends, only at rather
a long day. Thank you for writing to me
so kindly, you who have so much to do. /
have only begun to work ten days since,
and now, in consequence, have a little
leisure. Before, since my return from the
West, it was flying from London to Paris,
and rice Uersd-dinners right and left
parties every night. If l had been in
Philadelphia, 1 could scarcely have been
more feasted. Oh, you unhappy Reed I
see you latter hat little supper with Nc
Michael on Sunday, at your ewn table,
when we had that good sherry-Madeira,
turning aside from the wine-cup with your
pale face That cup has gone down this
well so often, that wonder the cup isn't
broken, and the well as well as it is.
Three weeks of London were moro than
enough for me, and l feel as if l had
enough to do with it and pleasure. Then
l remained a month with my parents
then l brought my girls on a little pleas
ure tour. We spent ten days at Baden,
when 1 set i%ntrepidly to work again
and have been five days in Switzerland
now not bent on going up mountains
put on taking things easily. o Deau-
tiful it is. How great and affable, too, the
landscape is It's delightful to be in the
midst of such scenes-the ideas get gen
erous reflections from them. l don't
mean to say my thoughts grow mountain
Gus and enormous like the Alpine chain
yOnder-but, in fine, it is good to be in
the presence of this noble nature. 1t is
keeping good company; keeping away
mean thoughts. 1 see in the papers now
and again accounts of fine parties in Lon
don. Mon Dieul Is it possible any one
ever wanted to go to fine London parties,
and are there people now sweating in
Mayfair routs? The European CONT
nent swarms with your people. They are
not at all as polished as Chesterfield. l
wish some of them spoke French a little
better. l saw five of them at supper at
Basic, the other night, with their knives
down their throats. 1t was awful. My
daughter saw it, and l am obliged to say
My dear, your Observation-Disclosures
one of the finest ladies of the old school l
ever saw always applied cold steel to her
victuals. It's no crime to eat with a
knife" which is all very well; but 1 wish
five of EN- at a time wouldn't.
Will you please beg McMichaeI, when
Mrs. Glyn, the English tragic actress,
comes to read Shakespeare in your city, to
call on her-do this act of kindness to her,
and help her with your valuable editorial
aid? 1 wish we were going to have an
other night soon, and that 1 was going to
set you up this very evening with a head
ache against tomorrow morning. BY
Jove, how kind you all were to mel How
l like your people, and want to see 'em
againl You are more tender hearted, TO-
mantle, sentimental than we are. l keep
on telling this to on. fine people here, and
have so belabored your country with praise
in private that l sometimes think l 90 too
far. l keep back some of the truth; but
the great point to try and ding into the
ears of the great stupid, v-irtue-proud Eng
lish public is, that there are folks in Amer
lea. That's where Mrs. Stoves book has
done harm, by inhaming us with an idea
of our own superior virtue in freeing our
blacks, whereas you keep yours. Compar-
isons are always odious, Mrs. Malaprop
says.
1 am about a new story, but don't know
as yet if it will be any good. 1t seems to
me Il am too old for story telling, but 1
want money and shall get 500, 900 for this,
of which ID. W 1 shall keep fifteen. 1
wish this rubbish, the sketch were away,
l might then put written rubbish in its
s4nad Ne that I have any Tnng 10 say,
but that l always remember you and yours,
and honest Mac, and Wharton, and kind
fellows who have been kind to me, and l
hope will be kind to me again.
Good bye, my dear Reed, and believe
me ever sincerely yours,
w. NJ. THACKERAY.