[Robert Lynd, Irish essayist and journalist.] Long Autograph Letter Signed to the artist and writer Walter Riddall, containing an account of a drunken visit from the artist Paul Henry.

6pp., 4to. In good condition, on lightly aged and worn paper. Closely-written in a difficult hand. In a letter reflecting the world of the closely-knit group of Irish culturual figures to which he belonged, Lynd begins by jokily defending himself against the complaint (heard in 'George Morrow's one night') that he has not written to Riddall, whom he lightheartedly accuses of living the leisurely 'life of a country gentleman'. 'Are you satisfied in Meath? Or miserable? God knows, I'm not satisfied here. I wonder if I would be satisfied anywhere. [...] About Ireland, I do not dare to do the things I would like to do, and I feel in thinking about Irish things as though I had come up against some dead impossible wall. I don't mean that I despair of Ireland or the Irish, but I'm not cheerful about the part I'm able to play in doing them any good. So I'm going to cultivate my will! Laugh, lovely one! But it's a fact.' He expands on the subject before asking Riddall if he has been writing. 'I miss you <?> and the sight of your old face [...] I miss, too, your comfortable words and your anti-English talk.' He discusses a visit by the painter Paul Henry: 'Henry called in on me at four o'clock in the morning on Thursday! He stayed in town &, of course, missed the train, so he walked up to Hampstead, looking, he says, for a <?> on the Heath under which he could sleep. When he got up here, however, he thought he might as well have a bed, so poor old Walker was pulled out of his dreams & led the Butterfly of Brookwood up to my room, smiling as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world to call on a man at that time of night. Luckily, I was still up, & had just got to an end of my work &<?>. Paul had walked most of his drunkenness off him & we had some excellent talk over his cigarettes. He's a great youth. He had got "tick" at the Adelaide coffee-stall on his way up! The next morning I pawned my dress clothes and sent him on his way rejoicing with the price of a drink in his pocket. Honestly, I love the man.' Henry and his wife 'seem fairly tired with each other by now. Did <?> tell you about Henry going home drunk to his wife and getting into bed with his breeches on? Mrs. H. asked him what was the matter with him aand Paul said it was neuralgia! The wife then rose up and got a bucket of water and made Paul dip his head in it. My God! when I heard it, I laughed till the tears washed down my face!' He reports that Morrow is 'seriously thinking of resigning his membership' of the Dungannon Club. 'We hold our meetings here in his studio. I read a paper there last Sunday, part of which will be in the United Irishman this week. I had also an article in last Friday's , so you see I'm not quite dle. Black & White changes editor this week & I don't know how I'll stand with the new man.' 'Crosland has never paid me a penny for the articles I have written for him. So you see I've not been on any tidal wave of prosperity lately. I have been teetotal, however, ever since I came back from Ireland & hope to add a few more to the stock of my virtues in the near future & to enlarge my spiritual premises, as it were! I wish I had a yarn with you. Colm was over here for a while at the end of the <?>, & I took him to the Cafe de l'Europe & the Cafe Royal. His play got a great reception here. I hope praise and women won't spoil him, for he's a beautiful, dear lad.' Postscript: 'P.S. I grow more beautiful every day. | R.W.L.' From the Lynd archive.?>