"I received the account rendered of the Blue and Gold Edition of the
'Essays' and 'Poems.' I keep the paper before me and study it now and
then to see if you have lost money by the transaction, and my
prevailing impression is that you have."
It was seldom he showed a sincere willingness or desire to print. One
day, however (it was in 1863), he came in bringing a poem he had
written concerning his younger brother, who, he said, was a rare man,
and whose memory richly deserved some tribute. He did not know if he
could finish it, but he would like to print _that_. It was about
the same period that he came to town and took a room at the Parker
House, bringing with him the unfinished sketch of a few verses which
he wished Mr. Fields to hear. He drew a small table into the centre of
the room, which was still in disorder (a former occupant having slept
there the previous night), and then read aloud the lines he proposed
to give to the press. They were written on separate slips of paper,
which were flying loosely about the room and under the bed. A question
arose of the title, when Mr. Fields suggested "Voluntaries," which was
cordially accepted and finally adopted.
He was ever seeking suggestions, and ready to accept corrections. He
wrote to his publisher:
"I thank you for both the corrections, and accept them both, though in
reading, one would always say, 'You pet,' so please write, though I
grudge it [Thou pet], and [mass], and [minster]. Please also to write
[arctic], in the second line with small [a] if, as I think, it is now
written large [A]. And I forgot, I believe, to strike out a needless
series of quotation commas with which the printing was encumbered."
His painstaking never relaxed, even when he was to read a familiar
lecture to an uncritical audience. He had been invited by the members
of the Young Ladies' Saturday Morning Club to read one of his essays
in their parlor. This he kindly consented to do, as well as to pass
the previous night with his friends in Charles Street, and read to
them an unpublished paper, which he called "Amita." Some question
having arisen as to the possibility of his keeping both the
engagements, he wrote as follows:--
"DEAR MRS. F.,--I mean surely to obey your first command, namely, for
the visit to you on Friday evening next, and I fully trust that I
wrote you that I would.... And now I will untie the papers of 'Amita,'
and see if I dare read them on Friday, or must find somewhat less
nervous."