I send you the claret jug. But for a mistake, you would have received
the little remembrance almost immediately after my return from abroad.
I need not say how much I should value another little sketch from your
extraordinary hand in this year's small volume, to which Mac again does
the frontispiece. But I cannot hear of it, and will not have it (though
the gratification of such aid, to me, is really beyond all expression),
unless you will so far consent to make it a matter of business as to
receive, without asking any questions, a cheque in return from the
publishers. Do not misunderstand me--though I am not afraid there is
much danger of your doing so, for between us misunderstanding is, I
hope, not easy. I know perfectly well that nothing can pay you for the
devotion of any portion of your time to such a use of your art. I know
perfectly well that no terms would induce you to go out of your way, in
such a regard, for perhaps anybody else. I cannot, nor do I desire to,
vanquish the friendly obligation which help from you imposes on me. But
I am not the sole proprietor of those little books; and it would be
monstrous in you if you were to dream of putting a scratch into a second
one without some shadowy reference to the other partners, ten thousand
times more monstrous in me if any consideration on earth could induce me
to permit it, which nothing will or shall.
So, see what it comes to. If you will do me a favour on my terms it will
be more acceptable to me, my dear Stanfield, than I can possibly tell
you. If you will not be so generous, you deprive me of the satisfaction
of receiving it at your hands, and shut me out from that possibility
altogether. What a stony-hearted ruffian you must be in such a case!
Ever affectionately yours.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready.]