[_Saranac Lake_, _April_ 1888.]
_Address c/o Messrs. Scribner’s Sons_,
743 _Broadway_, _N.Y._
MY DEAR GAMEKEEPER,—Your p. c. (proving you a good student of Micawber)
has just arrived, and it paves the way to something I am anxious to say.
I wrote a paper the other day—_Pulvis et Umbra_;—I wrote it with great
feeling and conviction: to me it seemed bracing and healthful, it is in
such a world (so seen by me), that I am very glad to fight out my battle,
and see some fine sunsets, and hear some excellent jests between whiles
round the camp fire. But I find that to some people this vision of mine
is a nightmare, and extinguishes all ground of faith in God or pleasure
in man. Truth I think not so much of; for I do not know it. And I could
wish in my heart that I had not published this paper, if it troubles folk
too much: all have not the same digestion, nor the same sight of things.
And it came over me with special pain that perhaps this article (which I
was at the pains to send to her) might give dismalness to my _Gamekeeper
at Home_. Well, I cannot take back what I have said; but yet I may add
this. If my view be everything but the nonsense that it may be—to me it
seems self-evident and blinding truth—surely of all things it makes this
world holier. There is nothing in it but the moral side—but the great
battle and the breathing times with their refreshments. I see no more
and no less. And if you look again, it is not ugly, and it is filled
with promise.
Pray excuse a desponding author for this apology. My wife is away off to
the uttermost parts of the States, all by herself. I shall be off, I
hope, in a week; but where? Ah! that I know not. I keep wonderful, and
my wife a little better, and the lad flourishing. We now perform duets
on two D tin whistles; it is no joke to make the bass; I think I must
really send you one, which I wish you would correct . . . I may be said
to live for these instrumental labours now, but I have always some
childishness on hand.—I am, dear Gamekeeper, your indulgent but
intemperate Squire,