Part 11

With regard to the exemption of fifteen hundred as the first edition of "City Lights," Mr. Parry said that the word edition meant nothing as to number. It meant simply a single issue. In reply to a question, he said he did not know what was the usage of publishers in this regard. They had sometimes exempted as many as two thousand, and had known cases in which five thousand had been exempted, and, I understood him to say, had done it themselves. One thousand, he said, was the usual number. Being asked what would be his own understanding of an edition, if nothing were specified, he said he would frankly admit that he should suppose it meant one thousand; that when any larger number than a thousand was exempted, it was their custom always to specify the number; that he did not know why it was not done now, and presumed this was the only time they had exempted more than a thousand without specifying the number. The reason of this large exemption was that there was so much risk in publishing a new book, and that this book was published in a style that was unusually expensive. It cost a great deal more than any other on their list; that there was no prescribed usage in such matters, and they could have exempted more, but had no desire to do so. I had said that if it were to cost more, they should have told me.[11] They had letters of mine showing that I did know it cost more, but that I was so desirous to have it printed in this way, that, in my own language, which Mr. Markman read and Mr. Hunt repeated with an air which showed that whatever literature had gained, the stage lost its chief ornament when Mr. Hunt went into the book trade, "I went down on my knees to you to have it like Sir Thomas Browne."

In my original statement I had said, "When the first book was to be published, Mr. Hunt asked me what style I should like, and suggested that of the 'City Curate.' I preferred 'Sir Thomas Browne.' He made no objection, nor even hinted that it was more expensive than the other. [Then came the quotations.] "I do not recollect that anything was said about it afterwards. The following books were simply published in uniform style with the first." This is my recollection of the matter, which is simple and commonplace enough.

From my letters at the time, however, the firm of Brummell & Hunt infer a thrilling dramatic scene in which Mr. Hunt was the obdurate autocrat, or the wise and thrifty guardian, as the case may be, who, like Mrs. John Gilpin, though on publishing bent, had a frugal mind; but was at length moved by me,

"Languendo, gemendo Et genuflectendo,"

to lay aside prudence and launch out into a style of publication which could be met only by some extraordinary sacrifice on my part, I professing to be until this late disclosure ignorant both of style and sacrifice.

I give the correspondence, inserting Mr. Hunt's letters to throw light on mine--the latter only appearing in Mr. Parry's defense.

Let it be remembered that the book was published September 18, 1762.

MR. HUNT TO M. N., SEPT. 2, 1762.

"It is our intention to publish 'C. L.,' on Saturday, the 13th of this month: not before, certainly. If any great excitement befall the country, we shall postpone till the following Saturday....

"Your new preface is pungent as a pepper. Your motto seems to be, 'Je suis prêt.'

"Give it to 'em any way you like. A proof of the preface will go to you in a few days. As to the binding of your book, I propose same style as 'Rs. of a City Curate,' gilt top leaves and beveled boards. Do you like that way?"

M. N. TO MR. HUNT, SEPTEMBER 3.

"For you to set up and pretend to ask me if I like 'City Curate' style, when you knew I went down on my knees to you to have it like 'Sir Thomas Browne,' and you said you would.

"The next book you publish for me, I am going to stand over you with a grip on your coat-collar from the time you give the first copy to the printer till the first edition stands on the shelf, and see if you cannot be kept to something. I don't know what your beveled boards are--only if you put a _d_ in, the adjective would apply more accurately--and I don't want my book to be boarded up any way, and if there is anything I hate, it is gilt tops, and if you don't do it as I want it, I don't care how it is done."

MR. HUNT TO M. N., SEPTEMBER 15.

"We shall publish, unless a defeat crowns our victories, your book this week. It will be a beauty, and look like 'Sir Thomas Browne,' in its red waistcoat."

[This letter was delayed and not received till the following letter was partly written.]

M. N. TO MR. HUNT, SEPTEMBER 20, 1762.

"You darling Traddles,--why do I call you Traddles? Because you are 'the dearest fellow.' It was not Traddles, though, was it? It was his wife, and she was not a fellow but a girl--never mind. The fact I wish to impress upon your mind is, that you have tricked out my book so beautifully that nothing could be lovelier. You would not have done it though if I had not threatened you within an inch of your life, would you? You don't know how delighted I was when I opened the bundle, expecting to see those cheap-looking paste-boardy things, and you had gone and done them just as I wanted you to do them, and you said you would, and then said you wouldn't, and they are _beautiful_. They are better even than 'Sir Thomas.' The paper is finer. But now see--I never thought till yesterday that they must cost more than the other way, and I have been distressed all along, and this makes me more so. But listen: I shall either live, or die, or marry. If I live I shall get money, if not by writing, then by teaching, or something, so that I shall pay you sometime. If I die I shall leave money enough of my own to pay you, and you keep this letter to show to my heirs to let them know I desire you to be paid. If I marry, Smith of course will be delighted to pay all my debts, and I shall make that the condition of my becoming Smithess; so that you shall not _lose_ money on my book, even if you don't make any, which I hope you will--millions of dollars; but I am sure you must see for yourself that it is better to have a book look substantial and high-bred, and suit you, even if it does cost a little more.

"Just here comes your letter and check, which was delayed in Boston because you did not put a stamp on.

"One of my friends has been questioning me about the business part of my book--copyrights and contract, and all that trash of which I know and care nothing."

[Foolish as this all seems to me now, I can only say that it expressed exactly my state of mind. It was not that I had any lofty disregard of money, but simply that I was so intent on writing, that I had room for nothing else. I had plenty of money, or if I had not, I did not know it, which amounts to the same thing, and it made me impatient to be bothered with these outside, and what seemed to me entirely insignificant matters.]

"But I want to know if by publishing articles in the 'A. M.' they pass out of my hands. I mean, if I wanted to collect them and have Tilton, say, publish them, couldn't I? I will any way; because you see, though _I_ am amiable, you know what _your_ temper is, and suppose we flare up and have a quarrel, what then? I tell you I don't discard lines of retreat. Now you know I would rather have you publish than anybody else--supposing I had anything to be published; but I want to do it because I want to do it, and not because I _have_ to do it--don't you understand?

"Do you know that it scares me to see my book out in the open day? Seems to me it is a romping kind of a book, and there is a regiment of I's on every page, and 'lots' of 'tricksys' and 'exasperatings' and 'for my parts.' You cannot tell how a book will look till it is born, can you? I shall make the next one better. Shall you read it now it is out? I wish I knew whether it disappoints you. It does me. It is crude and botchy--it is so awfully unlike 'Sir Thomas Browne;' and if it _isn't_ good, it is frightfully pretentious. A book ought not to come out in that style, unless it has some merit. To think of----reading it, and----and----and----I should like to go into a hole and burrow--and----

"O dear! I don't suppose they will read it, but I wanted to have such a book as they will read. Any way, you have done your part, and I want you to know that I am aware of it and not ungrateful."

"Hurrah! Good news! I have heard of a man in S----, who _said_ he was _going_ to buy my book! There is one copy as good as sold.

"The man who told me about the purchaser in S----, tells me also that the dress of my book is very much admired, and says I ought to be very grateful to B. & H. for doing me up in such style, just as if I was not! But what can I do about it? There is a white cloud at the toe of my boot. As soon as it resolves itself into a well-defined hole, I am coming to Athens to get a new pair. I have nothing in the world to say to you, and I shall not come to see you. Still, if you should say, 'Hadn't you better?' perhaps I might be induced to rasp my knuckles against No. 7--."

MR. HUNT TO M. N., SEPTEMBER 23.

"I am glad you like the costume into which we put your first-born. It is a handsome baby and will go alone uncommonly early."

So it seems that notwithstanding all the importunities and posturings of the kneeling scene, Mr. Hunt was unmoved--for it was after the curtain had fallen on this act that he quietly writes, "I propose same style as 'City Curate.' Do you like it?" All its pathos had not been sufficient to keep the act itself in mind. When I first suggested "Sir Thomas Browne," he agreed at once, but afterwards apparently forgot it and mentioned "City Curate," as if nothing had before been said on the subject. Finding then that I wanted the "Sir Thomas," he does not so much as reply, but simply binds the book according to my wishes. There is no sign of any objection to it on his part from the beginning to the end, so that the candid inquirer is at a loss to know why I should have knelt, except from native humility of spirit and taste for the suppliant posture--which nobody can deny.

As the ministers remark, "we shall resume this subject in the afternoon's discourse." I only say here what, _à la_ Ollendorf's grammar, I had a mind but no time to say to the referees.

After we had all slept upon it and returned to our _moutons_ next morning, Messrs. Hunt, Parry, & Co. brought in proof to show that I did know that fifteen hundred books were exempted in the first edition. This was an account in one of their books in which the exemption appeared. But in their copy of the accounts sent to me, drawn up by their clerk for the referees, the latter remarked that no such item appeared. Messrs. Parry and Markman thought it might be the clerk's mistake in copying. The referees asked me if I had my accounts with me. As they had been my literature for sixteen months, I was inclined to think I had. The original papers were produced and no mention was found in them of any exempted copies. Mr. Parry said that as the item was down in the books it must have been put there for the purpose of sending to me. Mr. Markman thought this particular account might have been lost in the mail. But the accounts which I held covered all the time of my transactions with Messrs. B. & H. Mr. Parry thought the entry in their books would at least show their good intentions.

The second edition of "City Lights" numbered five hundred copies. No edition was so large as the first, except the eleventh, which numbered two thousand copies. Another fact came out of which I had not before been aware, that three hundred copies had been exempted on every book. These I suppose had been distributed as advertisements.

Regarding the change in payments from percentage to a fixed sum, the firm claimed that it was made with my full knowledge, understanding, and consent, as would be proved by Mr. Hunt's testimony. Whereupon Mr. Parry gave place to Mr. Hunt, who deposed and said--or rather, to his grief, did not depose, but was obliged to content himself with saying,--that on a certain time he held a long conversation with me on the subject of the change, in which he fully explained to me its nature and necessity. He remembered that at first I was disposed to be trifling, but he begged that I would be serious, and assured me that this was a serious matter. He remembered using the expression, that their house was shaking in the wind. He explained to me over and over again, to make sure that I understood the state of affairs and the reasons which necessitated the change, and repeatedly asked me, "Do you understand this clearly?" and I said that I did, and "Do you assent to it?" and I answered "Yes." Then, fastening upon me a look--apparently designed to be penetrating and powerful enough to reach the lowest depths of duplicity and to wring late confession even from a perjured soul,--he exclaimed, "I think, M. N., you _must_ remember this."

Of course I was overwhelmed with confusion, but having persisted in the falsehood so long it was hardly worth while to go down on my knees to the gentleman a second time, so I received his gaze in silence. In fact, Mars Hill House witnessed then what the hymn calls "the young dawn of heaven below," inasmuch as there was silence in the room for the space of not quite half an hour. It was broken by the referees, who said that it was perhaps proper to ask me here if I remembered any such conversation. I said that I did not recollect it. They asked Mr. Hunt if he had any correspondence which referred to it. He said no, only the letter of mine which I had myself produced, in which I admitted it. But he remembered it with exact clearness. He could recall just the sofa on which he sat. He was so confident that he wished he could take his oath on it. They asked him whether I happened to be in Athens or whether he sent for me. He was not sure, but thought he sent for me. They asked him if in this conversation it was understood that "City Lights" was to be included in the second contract. He said "distinctly." I asked if he could define the time when the conversation occurred. He could not, but it was some time before the second contract was made, and was the basis of that contract. I asked if he could tell whether it was in the old shop or the new. He said it was in the new. He did _not_ add, what would have been a most effective peroration to his speech,--

"I reside at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James; I am not up to small deceit or any sinful games."

This little matter being thus comfortably disposed of, Mr. Parry again took up the thread of his discourse.

With regard to the change in payment to authors from a percentage to a fixed sum, he said that such a change was desirable because everything was changing and uncertain. He reiterated his statement as to the variations that had been made in the retail price of my books; said that authors generally did accede to the change; admitted that Mrs.---- had had some difficulty, that her mind seemed to have been jaundiced towards them, that her sister, Miss----, had examined their books, and that Mrs.---- had now become satisfied that all was right; that I, before the reference, neither admitted nor denied that I had acceded to their proposal, but only affirmed that I did not recollect about it. He denied that there was any prescriptive custom of paying the author ten per cent., though as before, he objected to bringing in the modes of other publishers, as Hunt, Parry, & Co. transacted business on their own account without consulting others. Which is all very true, doubtless, yet the prejudiced observer, seeing how much is said about the great liberality of this firm, can but marvel that they should have been willing to miss so brilliant an opportunity of contrasting their own liberality with the niggardliness of those sordid book-men who publish, not for glory and high emprise, but simply to make money. Mr. Parry said this also was a reason why the questions propounded to them by Mr. Dane antecedent to the reference seemed irrelevant. They were asked to state their income and that from the "Adriatic." But they might make a great deal of money in outside ways,--by speculating in butter, for instance,--of which it was not pertinent that they should give any account. He was asked why, if there was no prescribed custom to pay ten per cent., they themselves fixed on ten per cent. as the rate of payment for "City Lights." He said that they were disposed to be liberal; that there were no fluctuations then; that such a prescriptive custom may then have existed, he would not say that ten per cent. was not common, though he did not himself know what was the custom among other publishers. He was asked why "City Lights" was not by name included in the second contract if its provisions were intended to apply to "City Lights," and why the other works were not also included in a contract. He replied, that it was because a verbal understanding had been reached; that if they had supposed or intended any wrong, they would certainly have so included it; that the absence of contracts was owing to a basis of mutual understanding and verbal agreements. He was asked if they had any letters bearing on such verbal agreements, and he said they had not.

He affirmed that the publishers made but insignificant profits on the books compared with mine; that up to September, 1764, when the second contract was made, when "City Lights" had been two years out and "Alba Dies" and "Rocks of Offense" had been published, and "Old Miasmas" was about to be published, their net cash profit on the books for these two years had been three hundred dollars. Here they went into the details of the business with a minuteness altogether beyond my power to comprehend or report. The referees and themselves carried on a long discussion about the condition of business in general, and their business in particular, in 1762, 1764, and subsequently. The firm foresaw that they should have to advance the retail price of their books. Everything connected with their business advanced. The price and quality of paper, the size of books, taxes, interest, stereotype plates, pro rata increase, press-work, expenses of business, comparative costs of comparative thinness, if there is any such thing, number of pounds of paper in thin books and thick books, discounts to the trade, were discussed with apparent intelligence. I can give only a few of the mysterious tongues of flames that shot above the level of the luminous, and still more mysterious corona.

[It will be seen that this part of my paper is like Milton's "fatal and perfidious bark," in "being built in the eclipse" as well as "rigged with curses dark."]

The stereotype plates of the nine volumes were estimated at three thousand nine hundred and fifty-three dollars, ninety-seven cents.

Paper, printing, and binding of about 72,000 volumes $38,422.08 Advertising in outside mediums 1,500.00 Advertising in their own periodicals 500.00

[The latter embraced only _cost_ of paper and printing.]

Government manufacturing tax, five per cent. on sales, October 1764 to July 1766 $1,814.04 Seven per cent. interest on stereotype plates 991.46 Expenses of doing business, ten per cent. on sales 7,061.14

The latter included rent, insurance, clerk hire, packing, store expenses, business risks and losses, taxes on business-property, except income-tax, etc. Reckoning up the sums expended they proved beyond doubt, if there be truth in figures, that their profits were not quite seven-tenths as large as those of the opulent and insatiable author, who, in spite of all this inequality was clamoring for more. But they admitted that, though their expenses had been out of all proportion to their profits since the rise in prices, their profits had lately "been _some_ larger than before."

With all due respect to Messrs. Hunt, Parry, & Co., I must still avow that these estimates are entirely valueless. What would have been of value was their cost-book, which would have showed what they actually did pay. This I asked for but it was not produced. They simply made an estimate. They brought forward not a single voucher. They reckon the item of advertising at two thousand dollars, but they produced not a paper to show that they had paid anything. This advertising extended over several years and embraced advertisements of nine books. Whether they counted in the three hundred volumes reserved on each book; whether they counted in the advertisements of every book advertised and issued simultaneously with mine, on what basis they did calculate, or what sums they did pay, I have no means of knowing, except their assertion.

In the same way they make their estimate of the cost of paper and press-work; but that it is anything more than an estimate, that it represents the actual sum which they paid to printers and binders, there is no proof. From the fact that I asked for their cost-book, and that it was not produced, I infer that it does not represent that sum, notwithstanding the laudable accuracy involved in the eight cents.

Again, having set down a certain sum for the cost of the stereotype plates, for the interest of that money, for the paper and press-work, for the advertising and taxes, they bring in a grand finale for the expenses of doing business. That is, having charged once for the items specifically, they lump them together and charge for them all over again abstractly. For what is the advertising and the taxes but a part of the expenses of doing business? Why could not everything except the raw material of the book be classed under the head of doing business? What is there to a book but the book itself and the publication of it? And why again should interest be charged on the sum paid for stereotype plates any more than for that paid to the printer and binder?

[Since the reference I have showed their statement to several publishers, and am assured that any person whose correct accounts should stand thus is unfit for the business, and that the profit on those books is from four to five times as much as Messrs. Hunt, Parry, & Co. represent it.]

But, even supposing all these figures to be correct, it will at once be seen that the publishers set off their own net profits against the author's gross receipts. Having charged for every item of their own expense in producing the book, and for some of them twice over, they make no allowance whatever for the author's having been at any expense in his part of the production. What the publisher gets after every expense is paid is set over against what the author gets to pay every expense with. But the publisher's profits, according to their showing, are only about one tenth of his gross receipts. What then is the author's share of what may truly be termed profits? Or is the author's share in the production of the book to be considered as of no pecuniary value?

The remainder of the case, as presented by Messrs. Hunt, Parry, & Co., will appear, to the best of my ability, in the written reply presented to the referees and here subjoined. It must not be forgotten that one is always liable to misrepresent an opponent's case. I labor under the additional disadvantage of possessing a natural aptitude for "conspicuous inexactness" perfected by long practice. This innate depravity is, however, held in check at the present crisis, by the consciousness that I am reporting what took place in the presence of five persons, of whom three were on the other side, and two on neither side, so that any lapse from truth would be speedily detected. With such vigor does Providence barricade our weaker virtues!

INTRODUCTION.