I was for several years a frequent contributor to _Household Words_, my contributions for the most part consisting of what I considered tit-bits from the byways of Italian history, which the persevering plough of my reading turned up from time to time. In one case I remember the article was sent "to order," I was dining with him after I had just had all the remaining hairs on my head made to stand on end by the perusal of the officially published _Manual for Confessors_, as approved by superior authority for the dioceses of Tuscany. I was full of the subject, and made, I fancy, the hairs of some who sat at table with me stand on end also. Dickens said, with nailing forefinger levelled at me, "Give us that for _Household Words_. Give it us just as you have now been telling it to us"--which I accordingly did. Whether the publication of that article was in anywise connected with the fact that when I wished to purchase a second copy of that most extraordinary work I was told that it was out of print, and not to be had, I do not know. Of course it was kept as continually in print as the _Latin Grammar_, for the constant use of the class for whom it was provided, and who most assuredly could not have found their way safely through the wonderful intricacies of the Confessional without it. And equally, of course, the publishers of so largely-circulated a work did not succeed in preventing me from obtaining a second copy of it. Many of the letters addressed to me by Dickens concerned more or less my contributions to his periodical, and many more are not of a nature to interest the public even though they came from him. But I may give a few extracts from three or four of them.[1] [Footnote 1: I wish it to be observed that any letters, or parts of letters, from Dickens here printed are published with the permission and authorisation of his sister-in-law, Miss Georgina Hogarth.] Here is a passage from a letter dated 3rd December, 1861, which my vanity will not let me suppress. "Yes; the Christmas number _was_ intended as a conveyance of all friendly greetings in season and out of season. As to its lesson, you need it almost as little as any man I know; for all your study and seclusion conduce to the general good, and disseminate truths that men cannot too earnestly take to heart. Yes, a capital story that of 'The Two Seaborn Babbies,' and wonderfully droll, I think. I may say so without blushing, for it is not by me. It was done by Wilkie Collins." Here is another short note, not a little gratifying to me personally, but not without interest of a larger kind to the reader:-- * * * * * "_Tuesday, 15th November, 1859._ "MY DEAR TROLLOPE,--I write this hasty word, just as the post leaves, to ask you this question, which this moment occurs to me.