I have at last the letter that I was waiting for--didn't answer the
other, for one of mine was on the way to you.
* * * * *
You need not worry yourself about your part of the business. You have
acted "mighty white," as was to have been expected of you; and, caring
little for any other feature of the matter, I'm grateful to you for
giving my pessimism and growing disbelief in human disinterestedness a
sound wholesome thwack on the mazzard.
* * * * *
Yes, I was sorry to whack London, for whom, in his character as
author, I have a high admiration, and in that of publicist and
reformer a deep contempt. Even if he had been a personal friend, I
should have whacked him, and doubtless much harder. I'm not one of
those who give their friends carte blanche to sin. If my friend
dishonors himself he dishonors me; if he makes a fool of himself he
makes a fool of me--which another cannot do.
* * * * *
Your description of your new environment, in your other letter, makes
me "homesick" to see it. I cordially congratulate you and Mrs.
Sterling on having the sense to do what I have always been too
indolent to do--namely as you please. Guess I've been always too busy
"warming both hands before the fire of life." And now, when
"It sinks and I am ready to depart,"
I find that the damned fire was in _me_ and ought to have been
quenched with a dash of cold sense. I'm having my canoe decked and
yawl-rigged for deep water and live in the hope of being drowned
according to the dictates of my conscience.
By way of proving my power of self-restraint I'm going to stop this
screed with a whole page unused.
Sincerely yours, as ever,
AMBROSE BIERCE.
[Washington, D. C.,
February 3, 1906.]