BOSTON, 26th September, 1855.
MY DEAR SIR,--Constrained by other things, I renounce with much
reluctance the opportunity which you offer me of partaking in the
splendid hospitality prepared by the Publishers for the Authors
of our country.
The occasion will be of special interest. It would be pleasant
to sit at feast with so many, who, as Authors, adorn our
national name. And it would be pleasant also to be the guest of
those active, enlightened, and generous Publishers who do so
much for Authors. But I must forego this luxury. Only in “bare
imagination” can I enjoy it.
At your table there will be an aggregation of various genius
and talent constituting a true _Witenagemote_, which may justly
gratify an honest pride of country. Grateful as this may be as
a token of power, it will be more grateful still as a token of
that concord growing among men in all the relations of life.
The traditional feud between Authors and Publishers promises
to lose itself in your Festival, even as the traditional feud
between England and France is absorbed in the welcome of Victoria
by Louis Napoleon. This is beautiful. And the whole scene,
where differing Authors commingle under auspices of differing
Publishers, will be an augury of that permanent coöperation and
harmony which will secure to the pen its mightiest triumphs.
It is in honor of the pen that the company will be gathered
together. If any word of mine be expected, please let me offer
the following sentiment.
_The Pen of the Author_,--Exposing error, defending truth,
instructing the ignorant, cheering the unhappy, while
charming and animating _all_, it can do better than the
Sword, and will yet receive from the world a higher praise.
Believe me, dear Sir,
Very faithfully yours,