Part 10
When the reading of this document was completed, Messrs. Hunt, Parry, & Co. took up the parable, Mr. Parry being the first spokesman. And here I may say, that notwithstanding their assertion that they had expected to be represented by one of their firm, Mr. Markman, and that on such expectation Mr. Markman had prepared a presentation of the case, when I gave up my arrangements and consented to adopt theirs, their own seemed to have been changed. Instead of one member having it in charge, they all had a share in it, perhaps on the Pauline theory, that if one member suffer, all the members must suffer with him. Mr. Parry began, speaking from notes. Mr. Hunt followed, and Mr. Markman brought up the rear with day-book and ledger. Each one seemed to have his part carefully marked out and assigned to him, and if it had not been for the assertion that they had intended to be represented by one, I should never have suspected that the subsequent management of this case by all three, was a sudden and unaccountable afterthought.
Mr. Parry began by giving a general outline of the trouble as seen from the "Firm" point of sight. He admitted the pleasant relations in which we had previously stood. It seemed that in the latter part of 1767, I had something of a disappointment that the balance due me was not larger, and cast about to see how it could be increased, that the Segregationalissuemost alleged that a larger sum was generally paid than I had received, and Mr. Jackson seemed to confirm this statement; that Mr. Dane, to whom also I had had recourse, had not alleviated my uneasiness, but had rather poisoned my mind against them, as could be seen by the attitude he had assumed here this morning, saying that he had never believed I should have a hearing, and so forth; that as a result of it all, I considered that I had a claim for additional money, a claim that lay back of the contracts, as I had said; that I believed they had paid me less than they paid others, and in short brought against them a charge of general disingenuousness.
In replying to Messrs. Hunt, Parry, & Co., I was obliged to omit allusion to sundry points of minor importance, out of a tenderness to the referees--a tenderness of which, probably, until this moment, they had no suspicion. To the readers of this narrative I have no tenderness whatever, since the matter lies in their own hands, and they can dismiss it at pleasure. I shall therefore touch upon various omitted points while sketching the outlines of the defense, and will say here that Mr. Parry's declaration regarding the cause of "The Great Awakening," is strictly true. My eyes were not opened by any profound reflections on the "Origin of Evil," or the "Analogy of Religion, Natural and Revealed, to the Constitution and Course of Nature," but simply by the ignoble circumstance that I wanted money in my own miserable purse. The only consolation to be found for this shameful disclosure, is the recollection of that three pence a pound on tea which produced George Washington and the great American Republic. I have, however, in mitigation of this sordidness, brought forward one or two letters, which show that I wanted the money for others--the inference naturally being that I was not in so imminent danger of starvation that the difference between _meum_ and _tuum_ was in my mind entirely obliterated.
Several letters between Mr. Dane and myself have also been introduced for the purpose of showing to what extent my mind was susceptible of being poisoned, with what ingredients the attempt was made, and how far it assimilated and how far rejected these ingredients. My opinion is, that if such poisoning be a capital offense, my "attorney" and myself must die together, for I fear we are equally guilty.
So far as Mr. Jackson was concerned, Mr. Parry said that he had been unsuccessful in business, was not now a regular publisher, and he did not think his testimony of what was a custom several years ago was available in deciding what was the custom now. Regarding Messrs. Troubadour, Pearvilles, and others, he preserved a discreet silence, but objected to the introduction of the testimony of other publishers, as Messrs. H., P., & Co. conducted their business with their authors alone, without thinking it necessary to consult other publishers. Unless, therefore, I insisted upon other publishers being brought in, they should prefer to have them kept out. In reply to a question, Mr. Parry said he did not know what was the custom of other publishers in regard to paying authors. Now it was a very important part of my plan to have other publishers appealed to, but I was not in a condition to insist upon anything. I did not know what to do with them, even if I had them there. I certainly could not put them through a catechism, and I had no one to do it for me. So I said nothing, and the publishers were of course ruled out--by default, is it?
Mr. Parry deprecated any attributing of hostility to them. They had been desirous to have the matter amicably settled, so desirous that they had even offered to refer it to various friends of my own, with one of whom they had no acquaintance at all, with another of whom they had but a slight acquaintance, but whom they thought competent to settle it; and they had also offered to pay me ten per cent. on all future sales, all of which I had declined.
With regard to the question of fraud, Mr. Parry would say in a general way, that I went to them an unknown author, very urgent to publish "City Lights," that I had a great deal of confidence in them, spoke emphatically of the important advantage to me of being published by Brummell & Hunt; that in short, I came to them in such a way as almost to hold out to them a temptation to defraud me; so that if they had been inclined to it, they would have been likely to do it then. He produced the following extracts from letters written by me to Mr. Hunt, to sustain his charge. And if the printing of these letters seems somewhat appalling, let me assure the objector that it is a pleasing entertainment compared with the sensation of hearing them read before five men, two of whom are indifferent to you, three hostile, and four strangers.
"Kits, cats, sacks, and wives, How many were there going to St. Ives."[10]
I am moved here to say, that those persons who during the present century have been annoyed by letters from this now repentant and remorseful writer, may find ample revenge for all their discomfort in a knowledge of the manner in which these letters have returned to plague the inventor.
The first is dated April 14, 1762.
"I hope this letter sounds light and airy to you. I assure you it is very ghastly joking for me. I am burdened with a terrible secret which I wish to confide to you, at the risk of losing your complaisance forever. I dread to come at it, but I don't see how I can beat about the bush any longer. I am _not_ at work on anything for the 'Adriatic.' You would not print my papers, and you would not answer my letters. So Satan subsidized my idle hands, and I thought I would make a book. So I _made_ a book. It is not about the war, nor the times, nor anything sensible. It is not a novel, nor a history, nor a poem, nor a criticism, nor a volume of sermons. Somehow it does not look like a book, nor sound like a book, nor act like a book, but it _is_ a book. I can make 'my davy' on that. There is a title and a place for a preface, and an introduction, and I can put in an appendix if I wish, and explanatory notes and a glossary, and errata, and if you will publish it I will give you the copyright and the premium, and the patent, and the monopoly, and all the dividends, and if there is anything else, that--its title is 'City Lights.' It is blocked out in twelve chapters.
"'1. Moving'--That gets us out of the old house into the new one, and gives us a local habitation and a starting-point. I wrote it for the A. M. but you stunned me so with hurling back my paper pellets at my head that I did not dare try it again.
"'2. The Bank'--That means a grass bank, not a money bank. That has been printed.
"'3. My Garden'--That you have heard of. That was what I wanted the proof-sheets for, and you may conceive how guilty I felt. It seemed all the while like when Joab said to Amasa, 'Art thou in health, my brother?' and took him by the beard with the right hand to kiss him, and smote him under the fifth rib,--the wretch! But you see I was forced to be wily. If you had known that I was conspiring against your peace of mind, of course you would not have put the weapon into my hand. So I had to take you by the beard tenderly, or I should not have got the fifth rib at all, and that is the backbone of my book.
"'4. Men and Women'--Been printed.
"'5. Tommy'--Been printed.
"'6. Boston and home again'--Been printed--personal adventures of a rustic in the city.
"'7. Friendship'--In your hands--will be when you get this.
"'8. Dog-days'--Been printed.
"'9. Fading as a leaf'--Or something of that sort--knocks the bottom all out of the autumnal, sentimental kind of moral reflections--been printed.
"'10. Winter'--Snow and coal-fires--been printed.
"'11. My Flower-bed'--A success, to offset the failure to 'My Garden.'
"'12. Happiest Days.'
"Now, the question is, will you let me send it to you? You see it is almost all in print, so it will take but a minute to run it over--a longish kind of a minute, of course. I have not the least idea whether it is worth publishing or not. I don't want it published unless it will reflect credit on the literature of the country. Now, may I be forgiven for telling a lie; but I don't want it published if it will reflect _dis_credit--I will stick to that. I don't I want it published unless it will be read and liked by cultivated people. I don't want it to be at the level of school-girls and shop-boys. I want it to be such a book as ---- or ---- or ---- or ---- or ---- might take into the country, not for the thought or the theory, but for amusement, and such as would amuse them; such as Englishmen might read and value for its little side-lights thrown on American country life. I don't aim to do anything above amusement, and if it wont do that it is a failure, for there is nothing else for it to do. You see it was not written with any view to a book. I suppose I have enough things printed to make a dozen books, and I have taken out enough for one about the size of 'Sir Thomas Browne.' So far as the people I write for are concerned, I think now is as good a time as any. There is a kind of hiatus in book-making, and that gives me a chance for a hearing. My audience is more at leisure now and not much poorer. It is specially adapted to the times in that it has not anything to do with them, and so will be a recreation if it is not a bore. I should not think it would sell, I must say, for there is not anything of it. Still, all the parts of it that have been printed have 'taken'--I don't understand why....
"I have a certain vivacity of style which would be well enough if I had anything solid underneath; but I have no thought, no depth, no severe and careful culture, no comprehensiveness, no substance, nothing to raise me above the penny-a-liners, except perhaps the matter of vivacity, or whatever it is--but that is nothing to depend upon--no resource, no capital. My chief talent consists in raising great expectations--which will turn out like Pip's, I expect. It is no fault of mine. I do conscientiously the best I can; you are an illustration of this thing. You expect 'A number one' things of me. But you have no ground for it. I have sent you my 'A number one' things already, and you see they are not 'up to the mark.' But they are the very best I can do under the circumstances. What right have you then to expect anything better? I consider it a great misfortune that somehow my performances seem to give a promise that is entirely unwarrantable. O well, I must stop some time, so I suppose I might as well stop here. All is, may I send the thing to you? It is all ready, only I have to take it to some book-binder somewhere to have the things pasted in. I hope I do not annoy you by asking you--not _much_ I mean; of course it must annoy you a little--I assure you you need not have the slightest feeling about saying _no_. It would be no kindness to me to suffer me to disgrace myself or my country. There is only one sin that I will never forgive. If you ever tell anybody, my wrath will kindle against you into a perpetual fire; and you know about furies, and scorned women, and the wicked place! I hope this will get at you in some little crack between two '_mad_'nesses, but if it does not, pray don't turn 'mad' at me. I can bear anything but to be snapped up. I wonder if you would be more likely to be pleased if I had stopped before; if so, you can just turn back to the place where your temper began to crack, and make believe 'Yours, respectfully,' came there. But you have been so generous hitherto that I am afraid I perhaps presume too far--now I am sure that compliment is very well turned, seeing that kind of thing is not in my line--but the fact is I want you to stay good-humored so much that I would say anything!
Yours very truly, M. N."
The letters from Mr. Hunt in reply to mine, are inserted here for a better understanding of my letters, and to preserve the unity of the drama. As I did not anticipate the appearance of mine before the referees, Mr. Hunt's were not arranged with reference to them, but have been placed here since. Several sentences concerning magazine articles are quoted, to show that though I had not printed a book I was not wholly unknown as an author at the time of the publication of "City Lights," and that therefore the risk was not quite so great as one would perhaps judge from Mr. Parry's statement, which will presently appear.
MR. HUNT TO M. N.
"Send along the book by all means, and I will give it early attention.... A _book_ from your hand is worthy attention, and it shall have it from yours truly."
APRIL 20, 1762.
"I have read 'Moving' and the 'Friendship' paper to-day, both of which I shall be glad to print in the Magazine if you will let me.... As soon as I can find more time I will make up my mind about the book."
APRIL 25, 1762.
"I wish to begin at once to set up the copy, and no time should be lost in waiting. October will soon be here!
"I think we shall be able to get into a volume your articles, in form like 'Old Sir Thomas.' At any rate I shall try to do so."
APRIL 29.
"Why do you hop about so when you attempt an epistle? I can't find the place. Now you are on the right side of a sheet, and, _presto!_ I can't tell next where you are. A reader of your letters ought to stand on his head half the time. Page two is nowhere to be found, without twisting the spinal apparatus fearfully. Why don't you have a plan and stick to it? Or are you a law unto yourself? (See Hebrews).
"Let me tell you what I would like to do: Print in the Magazine several of the articles in your proposed volume, postponing the publication in book form for the present. 'Moving,' and 'Friends and Friendship,' I certainly wish for the Magazine.... Your book will keep, won't it? Meantime the papers, as printed in the 'Adriatic,' will not badly advertise the coming volume. Do you agree with me?...
"Your 'My Garden,' is a hit number one. Crowds of inquiries for the author's name beseech me, but I cry '_mum_' to the myriads."
M. N. TO MR. HUNT, MAY 1, 1762.
"Can't you read figures, dear? Don't you know a five when you see it? Aren't you able to tell a two from a four unless they are labelled? I fondly believed you were, but as indications point the other way, I will have everything in a right line hereafter, so that I shall just have to drop you into the groove at the beginning and you will spin along of yourself to the end. I am your serf and slave--till I get the upper hands of you, which I shall one day--I always do, sooner or later. Don't be frightened, though. I shall roar you as gently as a sucking-dove. And please remember that Hebrews is not Romans--or, as one cannot remember what he never knew, please be informed. Aren't you glad you have somebody who can always set you right?
"There is one thing about my letters though;--when you do find the place you know where you are. Yours I don't. Now what do you mean? Do you mean that my book is not good enough to publish? If you do, why don't you say so?
"When I was in Congress anything that was indefinitely postponed was as good as lost. I wish you would say, straight as an arrow, just what you mean. You need not be afraid of wounding my feelings. I have boxed them up in ice and sawdust and set them on the top shelf till such time as my fortunes shall permit me to indulge in such luxuries. I am rhinocerine and pachydermatous. Lay on Macbeth, or Duff, or whoever you are.
"You see it is absurd for you to talk about postponing the publication of a general kind of book if it is worth publicating at all. If it were what I want it to be, you would rectangle it up in ten minutes and have it out. If it is not what I want it to be, I don't want it published at all. If it is only so-so, pay-the-way-y, very good, I will have none of it. I want it to be triumphantly good. I don't want any drawn battle. I want an unconditional surrender, with fort, guns, and ammunition. If I can't have that I don't want anything. Now can I have that? You tell me. I know you know. I have been flattered to death all my life.... If the book is coarse, and violent, and insipid, and diffuse, and superficial, and egotistical, and worthless, say so. That is just what I am afraid it is, and it keeps me awake nights.
"It occurs to me that possibly you may have so much on your hands that you cannot publish it. I don't believe that, though. People can always find time to do what they will to do,--any way I can, and I am a female Atlas. But if it were so, and you would tell me that you thought the book was good, I would get somebody else to publish it. I should not like to do it to be sure. I have set my heart on your publishing my first book. You see, as Mrs. Browning says, 'I love high though I live low.' You know if you aim at the sun you won't probably hit it, but you will hit higher than you would if you made your target out of a scrub oak. I don't want to go into the world through the back door. I want to go in, sir, by the main entrance! with drums beating and colors flying! with body-guard on each side, and carriages drawn up in line! That means you--Brummell & Hunt is the triumphal arch and the Seventh Regiment! But you see I am tired to death and disgust of waiting. It is three years now since I took to writing in good earnest, and all this while I have been burrowing under ground. It is almost two years since I sent 'My Garden' to the 'A. M.' Two years apiece for the other two things will be four years, and by that time I shall be a coral reef, with all the pulp of my soul dried up, and nothing left but the dead shell. You understand I am not impatient of preparation. I am not only willing but eager to work. If I thought I could be more worthy by waiting; if I thought crudeness would mellow, I would wait; but the book is done. It is not a question of improving it, but to be or not to be.
"It would be a great disappointment, and I am sure a positive loss to me, not to have you publish the book if it is fit to publish. You would give me a prestige which I assure you I have sense enough to value. And yet will not the book, if it is good, make its own way, even if it should be born in a garret? You see I look at this from my standing-point only, for you of course are too well established to be disgraced by my failure or illustrated by my success. I am the only one affected, don't you see? If I fail it will nerve me. If I succeed it will give me a point of support. You understand, by success I don't mean that I desire to make a sensation. The public, whose countenance I court, would be comprised in a hundred men and women. If I should secure their suffrage, the rest of the world might go whistle. If the hundred put me on the pedestal, the ten millions cannot pull me down, for it is quality and not quantity that leads in this world, no matter what the world thinks.
"I want to be out too, because that thing is only the inch of an ell. If that succeeds I have half a dozen others--'City Lights,'--in the same style--and 'Rocks of Offense,' which is to put everybody right in religious matters. You don't know what my prophetic style is? I tell you it leaves Isaiah and Jeremiah nowhere! Then there is 'Night Caps' for children, and 'Holiday Stories' for all the holidays, and 'Stories of the Old School-House,' etc. I have sent those to the Tract Society and all the Eleemosynary Institutions, but they were not considered pious enough, and I am afraid you profane establishments would think they were too pious, so betwixt the clergy and the laity I should come to the ground with a thud, from which, like Antæus, I always gather strength.
"I don't believe you half read my letters. I don't know that I blame you, but it leads you into obvious mistakes. You say you want to print several of the articles--two certainly. Goosey-goosey-gander, where shall I wander; did not I tell you that all but those two had been printed before, and the last one which you had rejected? Why do you talk?... I am going to Athens to buy a new dress the first pleasant day of next week after Monday. Would you be willing to send those two papers around to----? I can look them over and manipulate them, and return them the next day. If you obey the impulse of the natural heart, unmodified by pressure of editorial duties, you will tell me, as General Taylor told Santa Anna, 'Come and take them.' And I would be glad to do it and talk about these matters instead of writing. But you must know that I cannot talk--I say what I don't mean and I mean what I don't say, and so an interview would be entirely inconclusive and unsatisfactory.
"You will understand from this brief epistle that it is not the book that won't keep so much as it is my own self.
"If I have said anything here that I ought not to say, pray make believe that--there, I just remember that my little book is not 'Night-Caps' but 'Make-Believes'--there is a book 'Night-Caps' already. Well, what I was going to say is--make believe I have not said it. I am writing in greatest stress of time, for our mail goes at unearthly hours, and I cannot stop to be proper. I wish you would give me a general absolution, retro-and pro-spective, till this business is over. Yours very truly."
MR. HUNT TO M. N.
"I see we must speak by the card when we write to Miss Wont-understand.
"This then, is what I wished to say in my last clear and felicitous epistle.
"Of course your book cannot be published till the articles I propose to print in the A. M. have appeared there. This is what I meant by postponing the issue of the volume. I wished to say that, B. & H. would print your book, certainly, but the time when must at present be unsettled for the reason above given. I have read the articles now and like them hugely. They are capital stuff for a book, full of all readable qualities....
"I will not eat you if you call in here when you come to town, but you must have your own way."
All the confidence, and all the respect for the house of Brummell & Hunt, which these letters indicate, I not only admit, but I introduced my case by avowing that I thought them the head and front of all publishing houses.