Part 4
"Believe me, your letters of suggestion were always welcome, and would still be so. If anything in my last note--which was somewhat hurried--seemed to be cast in the form of a reflection upon you, I hope that you will consider that I did not so intend it.
"I have neither the right nor the desire to impugn your reasons for seeking another channel of communicating with the public than such as B. and H. have been able to afford, and I do not think I implied anything to the contrary. It is for you to make the best market of your writings that you can; and although I may, as well as any other publisher, have my own view of what you should do, and what should be done for you, I am most far from wishing you to accept my view unconvinced, and I do not even offer it therefore.
"I honestly and earnestly wish you as thorough success as you can desire; and I hope that after you have put other publishers to the _real test_,--not of telling you what their brethren ought to do, but of themselves doing what they say should be done,--you will find as complete satisfaction from the general average of your next _five or six_ years, as I am inclined to think you might derive from a consideration of a similar period just ending.
"Sincerely yours, "H. M. BRUMMELL."
Solomon, in the enthusiasm of his love for his little sister, conjures up quaint fancies to embody his ardent longings to lavish gifts upon her. "If she be a wall, we will build upon her a palace of silver; and if she be a door, we will inclose her with boards of cedar." So, if this correspondence with Mr. Brummell were the Sacred Scriptures, one would express his admiration by writing a commentary upon it. His especial appreciation would be given to the childlike innocence with which Mr. Brummell darts out of his path in pursuit of chimerical beetles, while admonishing _me_ to remember that we are concerned with but a single bug. Nor would he refuse the meed of one melodious tear to the _naïveté_ with which this complete letter-writer, in his first epistle, lays bare the mercenary motives of his correspondent, and, in the second, calmly affirms, as a corollary to his propositions, that he knows nothing about the matter. We are all aware that men do speak unadvisedly with their lips, but the unconscious sweetness of Mr. Brummell's admission is the peculiar gift of Heaven to Mr. Brummell. The learned commentator might not be able to throw any light upon the points which are obscure to Mr. Brummell; nor can the impartial historian furnish any clew to the mystery of the "strong box," the "promising experiment," and the "parvenu hawkers and peddlers," so significantly mentioned. The present writer has no information on these points, and is inclined to believe that Mr. Brummell evolved them, as the German philosopher did the camel, from his moral consciousness.
But the question is not of sacred but profane literature, and we will not darken counsel by words without knowledge.
Until about the middle of March, this matter had not been mentioned to any one except Mr. Dane. Seeing the sea-change into something rich and strange, to which it was liable at the hands of the house of Brummell & Hunt, I thought it might be well to give my own version of it; and I spoke of it to some of those who were nearest me, and learned, as reported in a letter of April 18, to Mr. Dane: "A. was not much taken aback by the aspect of my affairs,--thinks they have only done by me as by others; if one is 'up' to such things, he makes his bargains; if he leaves it to them, he gets theirs, such as they are. A. has done just as I did, never said anything about it, and they pay what they choose. What they choose is twelve and a half cents on a dollar and a half book, and ten cents on a dollar and a quarter book. He says he has made some inquiries, and supposes he could get more elsewhere, but 'O, he is rich!' B. has ten per cent. written contract. ---- says D. has the same. E., of his own accord, told a friend of mine that he did not think B. & H. were good publishers for authors, as they advertised so little, and had no agencies for pushing sales. I don't agree with that, for I would much rather a book would travel on its own merits. In fact, I have always especially rejoiced in that attribute of B. & H. A. says K. is shrewd and he has no doubt _he_ is well paid. But what is the use of talking about it any more?"
MR. DANE TO M. N.
"To us mere mortals it seems as if you authors were--as the countryman told Arthur Gilman his lecture was--'plaguey kinder shaller.' That ... you should surrender yourself at discretion to some publisher is natural enough, but that A. should be systematically humbugged out of his dollars, and have the credit which I--and I presume mankind generally--gave him for exacting so much for his copyright as to make the price of his epistles and things extortionate, is, as the man said of his wife's death, ridic'lous. There is nothing in the last 'Adriatic' but ----'s poem. Tell him that the world thinks he imposes on us by making us pay a dollar and a half for his very thin books. We suppose he gets their weight in gold per copyright."
VI.
A TRUCE.
THEN for a time, other events absorbed me, and the whole matter faded out of sight and thought.
Afterward, to save the trouble of repeated explanations, I determined to arrange the tragedy in compact shape, and let such of my friends as cared to know, learn it from the "original documents." Accordingly on the 27th or 28th of May, I wrote to Mr. Hunt:--
"Will you be so good as to permit me to take copies of those letters that I have sent you which resulted in breaking the connection between us? I have not my papers by me, and cannot give you the exact dates of the letters I want, but the first was sent on or about the last of December, the next, etc., etc., etc. If you desire it, I will return the letters to you, or if you prefer that they should not go out of your hands, and will say when and where I can see them, I shall be happy to suit your convenience."
Mr. Hunt did not reply to this letter directly, but sought an interview with Mr. Dane.
MR. DANE TO M. N.
"Mr. Hunt has been at my office an hour, talking of you, etc. He at first said you had written him for copies of your letters; that he is taking account of stock and could not possibly have them copied at present, and wished, if I were writing you, that I would say so. I said, why not inclose the letters to M. N., and ask her to return them if you want them. He said he would. He seems worried about the matter, and said, 'If I only could know what M. N. wants, I would do anything to satisfy her.' I said, 'I have done all I could to prevent a final breach between you. From all I could learn, I thought M. N. had not received what she was entitled to. Everybody to whom we referred expressed this opinion. Nobody suggested that less than ten per cent. was right, and you allow her six and two thirds, and seven and one half. Her conclusion was inevitable, that you had not done right, etc.' He replied with various abstractions as to how authors forgot the various expenses, etc.
"I told him you felt hurt that he did not notice your letters asking explanation. He said he wrote you to come and see him, and he would have gone to you had you suggested it. I said what I should have done, was to see you and explain the matter, and not allow it to rest so for weeks, as if it were a matter of indifference, etc. Finally I told him what I advised you, to wait for their next account, and see whether they would not, now that high prices have to some extent passed by, allow a further percentage; and that I suggested to you to write them, or allow me to, saying that it was hoped they might make their future accounts more satisfactory. He made no reply. I mentioned that you really felt that the 'Adriatic' was your proper avenue to the public, and had a paper now that you hardly knew what to do with. He said, 'All she has to do is to send it along.' Well, all this talk came to nothing. The only fact that at all modifies my views is, that A., B., and the rest, seem to be treated the same, and that is a surprise to me, and takes off in a measure the c---- of taking advantage of female weakness. Ahem!"
M. N. TO MR. DANE, JUNE 1.
"Your letter came Saturday; but _my_ letters have not yet appeared from Mr. Hunt. His talk to you looks like subterfuge. I never suggested his getting the letters copied, but send them to me and I would return them, or tell me where and when I should see them, and I would wait his convenience. Again, what have I to do with the expenses of publishers? I am not complaining that he pays small per cent., but that he, in the first place, pays less than other publishers, and secondly, pays me less than he pays other authors, and is thereby guilty of a breach of faith."
On the same day, May 29, the firm of Brummell & Hunt addressed a letter to Mr. Dane, saying,--
"We have occasion to print several volumes of M. N.'s writings, which under ordinary circumstances we should proceed to do at once. Before doing so, however, in the present posture of affairs, we have an offer to make to M. N. The dissatisfaction which she feels, and is constantly expressing toward us as her publishers, would probably lead her to prefer that her books should be in other hands. We are willing to sell the stereotyped plates and manufactured stock of her books, at a reasonable price, to any publisher with whom she may choose to arrange for their future publication.
"An early answer would be acceptable, as in the event of our retaining the books, we wish to proceed with the manufacture."
MR. DANE TO M. N., JUNE 1, 1768.
"The breezes from B. & H. are very fluctuating. The same day in which Mr. H. came and had the long talk which I reported to you, the firm seem to have written the inclosed, which I did not get till this morning.
"If you don't do anything for a month nothing in particular will happen. Still, you want the books in the market, and perhaps somebody will take them off B. & H.'s hands and do as well....
"I am somewhat inclined to say to them that we will take all the stereotype plates, and all the books on hand of them, at the appraisal of fair men. And the same men shall adjust all claims for the past copyrights.
"I am surprised at this blunt note, after Mr. H.'s amiable conversation. If we are going to have a settlement, let us open the past and make them refer the whole thing; let them give up everything and adjust the balance as fair men shall say is right." ....
But the note of the firm did not suggest any settlement of past claims; and therefore presented but a lame and impotent conclusion to the matter. What I wanted was indemnity for the past, not security for the future. If a man cheats me once, says the proverb, it is a shame to him. If he cheats me twice it is a shame to me. The information that I was feeling and constantly expressing dissatisfaction might perhaps be classified among the "locals" as "startling if true." What I felt must have been entirely a matter of inference, as it was long since I had expressed either satisfaction or dissatisfaction; I had been concerned in other matters. My note to Mr. Hunt contained no emotional expressions whatever. But as I had had my full share of sentimentalizing, it was no more than fair that Messrs. B. & H. should have their turn at it.
Their course seemed to me mere child's play, and not the play of good children either; which must serve as excuse for the following reply sent to Mr. Dane:--
"Your letter came this morning. Messrs. Brummell & Hunt have improved even on Mr. Brummell. His felicitous, original idea was only that I was impelled by a desire to have recourse to the 'parvenu hawkers and peddlers of books.' The combined wisdom of the firm seems to point to my becoming a parvenu hawker and peddler myself. Their fine instinct has doubtless divined my long-cherished dream of setting up a book-stall beside the orange-woman in the neighboring corner of the Common.[6] Pray present my compliments to Messrs. Brummell & Hunt, and say to them with many thanks, that as this new career could hardly be said to open brilliantly with an array of obsolete and obsolescent volumes, I do not propose to enter upon it until some new work appears, when I shall crave their blessing not their books.
"Do not be at the trouble of transmitting this message. Send the letter down bodily, and let it whistle itself."
On Monday, the 1st of June, one of my friends, Rev. Mr. Hayes, having gone to Mr. Hunt with the olive-branch in his hand, but without my knowledge, and been completely won over by his amiable bearing, came to me, and begged me, if only out of regard to himself, to have an interview with Mr. Hunt. I had been familiar for several years with Mr. Hunt's gifts and graces, and knew that, though they were charming for social intercourse, they were not easily reducible to two and a half, still less to three and one-third per cent. But, as Mr. Hayes begged me by his friendship; as, regarding Mr. Hunt, everything which I had cared to save was lost, and as, I wanted my letters, which, though promised, did not come, I consented, so far as to give Mr. Hayes permission to say to Mr. Hunt that if he chose to come to my house to bring my letters, I would be at home on Thursday, the 4th of June.
M. N. TO MR. DANE.
"Mr. Hunt is coming down on Thursday to bring me my letters. I think it a foolish and useless, as it is a most disagreeable thing; foolish, simply because useless; but I have agreed to it so far as to say that I should be at home. The talk will amount to nothing because I cannot talk. He will have it all his own way, because it is a subject on which he is informed and I am not. And then, talk is never tangible. I want something that you can keep hold of. But at any rate, I shall get my letters. It is impossible to refer it to arbitrators, because the worst part of my trouble was not of such sort as could come before them. I will never permit the matter to go before arbitrators unless it comes to be a case of honor. That is, I will not do it for the sake of what money I might get."
M. N. TO MR. DANE.
"Mr. Hunt came down on Thursday, as I expected. He was in some sort my guest, and we met amicably, and parted _friendlily_. The most important development of his visit was, that [he says] he did, in the early stages of the affair, send me just such a letter as I told him he should have sent,--a letter written, as he says, by his own hand, because he would not have his clerk mixed up in it; written with great pain, and the only letter he has written since his hand has been so lame, except one to Dickens.[7] In this, he assured me that it was all right, that he had the figures to show me so, notwithstanding appearances; and begged me to let him come to Zoar and do so. This, without any other explanation, would have quite satisfied me in the beginning; but this letter I never received. Of course, however, I receive his assertion that such a letter was written, and I make the best use I can of it. He assured me, in the most solemn manner, that he has done by me as he has done by A., B., and the others; and that he has always done what he thought the best thing and most to my advantage. Now, when a man tells me that, I can have nothing more to say to him. H. has a greater percentage because his books have never been printed but once, and that when work was cheaper, and so they pay him at the old prices. But I will go into particulars more fully when I see you. I suppose it is pretty much the same as you have heard yourself.... He admitted that he did not wonder at my course, seeing I had not received his letter, yet seemed to think I should have had more confidence in him; had always supposed _I_ should stand by him, though the heavens fell. The heavens did not fall, though I sometimes think a part of the sky is not there. I told him that I had no intention to meddle with the past; agreed that they should go on with their books as if nothing had happened, and desired him, whatever course I might take in the future, to believe me not unfriendly toward himself, but that the developments of this trouble had made it impossible for me at once to resume my old place. But I don't think he minded that.
"Now you see ... we are at peace. I do not deceive myself. It is not a very rapturous sort of peace. The relations between us are but a thin, meagre, unsubstantial substitute for those that formerly existed; but they are better than war--and they are truer than the old ones,--and truth is better than falsehood, however agreeable the falsehood be. I do not mean that on either side there was any intentional falsehood, but that there was a sort of glamour which is now removed.
"Now, if any one ever speaks to you of this, say, as I shall, that there was a misunderstanding, but that it is removed.
"I hope that you will not disapprove of what I have done; or perhaps, rather, of what I have not done, for my action has been chiefly a negative. I have simply let things be, in form, which I have always meant to do in substance. He assures me that it is all right, and I cannot stand up and dispute his word."
Mr. Hunt, during this interview, insisted that at the time he made the change from ten per cent. to fifteen cents, he had a long talk with me and fully explained the reason. I insisted that he never had done so. I admitted that he had announced that he was going to make the change on account of the fluctuations in the prices of things, and the consequent uncertainties. It was all I wanted, and more. If he had said nothing I should have been just as well satisfied, I had so much faith in him. A positive assurance generally carries it over a negative. Still, if a man asserted that he had offered himself to a girl, her negative assertion that he never had, would, of itself, be entitled to as much credence as his positive one, supposing the character of both to be equal. If the man were in the habit of offering himself to girls, while the girl had never had another lover, her negative would surely outweigh his positive. Mr. Hunt had dealings with many authors. He was my only publisher, and he was more likely to be mistaken in this than I. He might have intended to make the explanation, or might have made it to some one else; but an explanation made to me, it is next to impossible I should have forgotten.
Really, the matter was not of importance, because if he had made it then it would have answered every purpose. If I could have been made to see at one time, that seven and a half equals ten, I could have been made to see it at another.
Here the controversy seemed to have come to a natural and pacific conclusion, and I began to take up the burden of life again, saying only, it might have been different perhaps, but then it might not. I cannot affirm that I was entirely satisfied about the missing letter. Letters never are lost in our climate. We often wish they would be. There are dozens in this correspondence, nothing in whose life would have become them like the leaving it. But they all went straight as an arrow to the mark, and now, like Burns' sonsie, smirking, dear-bought Bess,
"They stare their daddy in the face; Enough of aught ye like, but grace."
On the 24th of February, Mr. Hunt seemed first to have awakened to the fact that there was any cloud in the sky, and begged me in all kindness to tell him the ground of my sudden dissatisfaction. Of course, the missing letter could not have been written before that time. After I replied to him, alleging the grounds of my sudden dissatisfaction, he replied by calling on Mr. Dane, as Mr. Dane's letter to me shows. I was not only unable to find any place where Mr. Hunt's explanatory letter might have been missing, but I could not find a place where it could have come in.
But I let that pass. There seemed to be nothing more to do, and if there had been, I was too tired to do it. I thought the affair, like David's destructions, had come to a perpetual end, which, if not absolutely satisfactory, was at least relatively so. There are very few kinds of peace which are not better than war. I was not sure I had done the wisest thing, and as I wrote to Mr. Dane in review of it, "to speak the truth in love, I don't much care. That is, the whole affair had become so utterly tiresome to me that I long ago grew indifferent to it. How the business part of it should be settled, I little cared. What I really had at stake, is lost."
VII.
RENEWAL OF HOSTILITIES.
BUT the traces of battle had hardly begun to be obliterated, when an unexpected circumstance suddenly rekindled the flames of civil war.