The case in full was the history just given; compiled, as its perusal
shows, from various motives, at various times, for various persons.
A few letters between Mr. Dane and myself have been inserted to meet
sundry points which afterwards came up. A few slight verbal alterations
have been made, and some elegant extracts from the newspapers have been
introduced. Otherwise, the statement here made, covering the time from
October, 1767, to February, 1769, is the one which was presented to
and acted upon by the referees. It was indeed a formidable object, and
those unhappy gentlemen may be pardoned if, for a moment, as they held
it in their hands, they looked into each other's faces in dismay. But
it gives me pleasure to add for the credit of our common humanity, that
they met their fate like men, and by a well-organized system of "ride
and tie" arrived at their journey's end in a much fresher condition
than could have been expected of mere mortals.
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!