The following letters were written in 1888 and 1889, by James Parton
to the Honorable Alfred R. Conkling of New York City. In December,
1888, Mr. Conkling wrote to Mr. Parton, making him a formal offer to
assist in the preparation of the "Life and Letters of Roscoe
Conkling." Mr. Parton generously declined to accept payment, but took
a great interest in the work, and during the following year
corresponded frequently with Mr. Conkling, advising upon specific
points and setting forth the general principles of the art of
biography.
We are indebted to Mr. Conkling for permission to print these letters,
which are full of wise suggestion to the literary "recruit," and of
genuine human interest to all lovers of good reading. They give us
glimpses of Mr. Parton, not only as a conscientious writer of
biography who had acquired a rare mastery of his art, but also as a
man of aggressive interest in public affairs, of broad mind, and a
singularly wholesome nature.
* * * * *
NEWBURYPORT, MASS., _Dec. 8, 1888_.
DEAR SIR: I am glad to learn from yours of yesterday that we are to
have a biography of so interesting and marked a character as the
lamented Roscoe Conkling, and I should esteem it a privilege to render
any assistance toward it in my power.
[Illustration: JAMES PARTON IN 1852, AT THIRTY YEARS OF AGE.]
The great charm of all biography is the truth, told simply, directly,
boldly, charitably.
But this is also the great difficulty. A human life is long. A human
character is complicated. It is often inconsistent with itself, and it
requires nice judgment to proportion it in such a way as to make the
book really correspond with the man, and make the same impression upon
the reader that the man did upon those who knew him best.
_Your_ difficulty will be to present fairly his less favorable side;
but upon this depends all the value, and much of the interest of the
work.
My great rules are:
1, To know the subject thoroughly myself; 2, to index fully all the
knowledge in existence relating to it; 3, to determine beforehand
where I will be brief, where expand, and how much space I can afford
to each part; 4, to work slowly and finish as I go; 5, to avoid eulogy
and apology and let the facts have their natural weight; 6, to hold
back nothing which the reader has a right to know.
I have generally had the great advantage of loving my subjects warmly,
and I do not believe we can do justice to any human creature unless we
love him. A true love enlightens, but not blinds, as we often see in
the case of mothers who love their children better, and also know
them better, than anybody else ever does.
With regard to New York, I am always going there, but never go;
still, I may have to go soon, and I will go anyway if I can do
anything important or valuable in the way you suggest--but not
"professionally," except as an old soldier helps a recruit.
Very truly yours,