try to import and sell here the books after being manufactured
in London.
On the 30th of April we shall ship at New York the first two
volumes of the _Miscellanies,_ two hundred and sixty copies. In
four weeks, the second two volumes will be finished, unless we
wait for something to be added by yourself, agreeably to a
suggestion of Wheeler's and mine. Two copies of _Schiller's
Life_ will go in the same box. We send them to the port of
London. When these are gone, only one hundred copies remain
unsold of the first two volumes (_Miscellanies_).
Brown said it was important that the plates should be proved
correct at London by striking off impressions before they were
sent hither. This is the whole of my present message. I shall
have somewhat presently to reply to your last letter, received
three weeks since. And may health and peace dwell with you
and yours!
--R.W. Emerson
XXXIX. Emerson to Carlyle
Concord, 25 April, 1839
My Dear Friend,--Behold my account! A very simple thing, is it
not! A very mouse, after such months, almost years, of promise!
Despise it not, however; for such is my extreme dulness at
figures and statements that this nothing has been a fear to me, a
long time, how to extract it from the bookseller's promiscuous
account with me, and from obscure records of my own. You see
that it promises yet to pay you between $60 and $70 more, if
Mr. Fuller (a gentleman of Providence, who procured many
_subscribers_ for us there) and Mr. Owen (who owes us also
for copies subscribed for) will pay us our demand. They have
both been lately reminded of their delinquency. Herrick and
Noyes, you will see credited for eight copies, $18. They are
booksellers who supplied eight subscribers, and charged us $2 for
their trouble and some alleged damage to a copy. One copy you
will see is sold to Ann Pomeroy for $3. This lady bought the
copy of me, and preferred sending me $3 to sending $2.50 for so
good a book. You will notice one or two other variations in the
prices, in each of which I aimed to use a friend's discretion.
Add lastly, that you must revise all my figures, as I am a
hopeless blunderer, and quite lately made a brilliant mistake in
regard to the amount of 9 multiplied by 12.
Have I asked you whether you received from me a copy of the
_History?_ I designated a copy to go, and the bookseller's boy
thinks he sent one, but there is none charged in their account.
The account of the _Miscellanies_ does not prosper quite
so well....
Thanks for your too friendly and generous expectations from my
wit. Alas! my friend, I can do no such gay thing as you say. I
do not belong to the poets, but only to a low department of
literature, the reporters; suburban men. But in God we are all
great, all rich, each entitled to say, All is mine. I hope the
advancing season has restored health to your wife, and, if
benedictions will help her, tell her we send them on every west
wind. My wife and babes are well.
--R.W.E.
XL. Emerson to Carlyle
Concord, 28 April, 1839
My Dear Friend,--I received last night C.C. Little & Co.'s
proposition in reference to the stereotyping the _History._
Their offer is based on my statement that you proposed to print
the book in two volumes similar to ours. They say, "We should be
willing to pay three hundred dollars for the use of plates for
striking off five hundred copies of the two volumes, with the
farther agreement that, if we wished to strike off another five
hundred in nine months after the publication of the first five
hundred, we should have the liberty to do so, paying the same
again; that is, another three hundred dollars for the privilege
of printing another five hundred copies;--the plates to be
furnished us ready for use and free of expense." They add,
"Should Mr. Carlyle send the plates to this country, he should be
particular to ship them to _this port direct._" I am no judge of
the liberality of this offer, as I know nothing of the expense of
the plates. The men, Little and Brown, are fair in their
dealings, and the most respectable book-selling firm in Boston.
When you have considered the matter, I hope you will send me as
early an answer as you can. For as we have no protection from
pirates we must use speed.
I ought to have added to my account and statement sent by Miss
Sedgwick one explanation. You will find in the account a credit
of $13.75, agreed on with Little & Co., as compensation for lost
subscribers. We had a little book, kept in the bookshop, into
which were transferred the names of subscribers from all lists
which were returned from various places. These names amounted to
two hundred, more or less. When we came to settle the account,
this book could not be found. They expressed much regret, and
made much vain searching. Their account with me recorded only
one hundred and thirty-four copies delivered to subscribers.
Thus, a large number, say sixty-six, had been sold by them to our
subscribers, and our half-dollar on each copy put in their pocket
as commission, expressly contrary to treaty! With some ado, I
mustered fifty-five names of subscribers known to me as such, not
recorded on their books as having received copies, and demanded
$27.50. They replied that they also had claims; that they had
sent the books to distant subscribers in various States, and had
charged no freight (with one or two exceptions, when the books
went alone); that other booksellers had, no doubt, in many
cases, sold the copies to subscribers for which I claimed the
half-dollar; and lastly, which is indeed the moving reason, that
they had sent twenty copies up the Mississippi to a bookseller
(in Vicksburg, I think), who had made them no return. On these
grounds they proposed that they should pay half my demand, and so
compromise. They said, however, that, if I insisted, they would
pay the whole. I was so glad to close the affair with mutual
goodwill that I said with the unjust steward, write $13.75. So
are we all pleased at your expense. [Greek] I think I will not
give you any more historiettes,--they take too much room; but as
I write this time only on business, you are welcome to this from
your friend,
--R.W. Emerson
XLI. Emerson to Carlyle*
Concord, 15 May, 1839.
My Dear Friend,--Last Saturday, 11th instant, I had your two
letters of 13th and 17th April. Before now, you must have one or
two notes of mine touching the stereotype plates: a proposition
superseded by your new plan. I have also despatched one or two
sheets lately containing accounts. Now for the new matter. I
was in Boston yesterday, and saw Brown, the bookseller. He
accedes gladly, to the project of five hundred American copies of
the _History._ He says, that the duty is the same on books in
sheets and books in boards; and desires, therefore, that the
books may come out _bound._ You bind yours in cloth? Put up his
in the same style as those for your market, only a little more
strongly than is the custom with London books, as it will only
cost a little more. He would be glad also to have his name added
in the titlepage (London: Published by J. Fraser; and Boston:
by C.C. Little and James Brown, 112 Washington St.), or is not
this the right way? He only said he should like to have his name
added. He threatens to charge me 20 percent commission. If, as
he computes from your hint of 2/7, the work costs you, say, 70
cents per copy, unbound; he reckons it at a dollar, when bound;
then 75 cents duty in Boston, $1.75. He thinks we cannot set a
higher price on it than $3.50, _because_ we sold our former
edition for $2.50. On that price, his commissions would be 70
cents; and $1.05 per copy will to you. If when we see the book,
we venture to put a higher price on it, your remainder shall be
more. I confess, when I set this forth on paper, it looks as bad
as your English trade,--this barefaced 20 percent; but their
plea is, We guarantee the sales; we advertise; we pay you when
it is sold, though we give our customers six months' credit. I
have made no final bargain with the man, and perhaps before the
books arrive I shall be better advised, and may get better terms
from him. Meantime, give me the best advice you can; and
despatch the books with all speed, and if you send six hundred, I
think, we will sell them.
------------
* In the first edition of this Correspondence a portion of this
letter was printed from a rough draft, such as Emerson was
accustomed to make of his letters to Carlyle. I owe the original
to the kindness of the editor of the _Athenaeum,_ in the pages
of which it was printed.
-----------
I went to the _Athenaeum,_ and procured the _Frasers'_ and will
print the _Novelle_ and the _Mahrchen_ at the end of the Fourth
Volume, which has been loitering under one workman for a week or
two past, awaiting this arrival. Now we will finish at once.
_Cruthers and Jonson_ I read gladly. It is indispensable to such
as would see the fountains of Nile: but I incline to what seems
your opinion, that it will be better in the final edition of your
Works than in this present First Collection of them. I believe I
could find more matter now of yours if we should be pinched
again. The Cat-Raphael? and _Mirabeau_ and _Macaulay?_ Stearns
Wheeler is very faithful in his loving labor,--has taken a world
of pains with the sweetest smile. We are very fortunate in
having him to friend.--For the _Miscellanies_ once more, the two
boxes containing two hundred and sixty copies of the first series
went to sea in the "St. James," Captain Sebor, addressed to Mr.
Fraser. (I hope rightly addressed; yet I saw a memorandum at
Munroe's in which he was named _John_ Fraser.)
Arthur Buller has my hearty thanks for his good and true
witnessing. And now that our old advice is indorsed by John Bull
himself, you will believe and come. Nothing can be better. As
soon as the lectures are over, let the trunks be packed. Only my
wife and my blessed sister dear--Elizabeth Hoar, betrothed in
better times to my brother Charles,--my wife and this lovely nun
do say that Mrs. Carlyle must come hither also; that it will
make her strong, and lengthen her days on the earth, and cheer
theirs also. Come, and make a home with me; and let us make a
truth that is better than dreams. From this farm-house of mine
you shall sally forth as God shall invite you, and "lecture in
the great cities." You shall do it by proclamation of your own,
or by the mediation of a committee, which will readily be found.
Wife, mother, and sister shall nurse thy wife meantime, and you
shall bring your republican laurels home so fast that she shall
not sigh for the Old England. Eyes here do sparkle at the very
thought. And my little placid Musketaquid River looked gayer
today in the sun. In very sooth and love, my friend, I shall
look for you in August. If aught that we know not must forbid
your wife at present, you will still come. In October, you shall
lecture in Boston; in November, in New York; in December, in
Philadelphia; in January, in Washington. I can show you three
or four great natures, as yet unsung by Harriet Martineau or Anna
Jameson, that content the heart and provoke the mind. And for
yourself, you shall be as cynical and headstrong and fantastical
as you can be.
I rejoice in what you say of better health and better prospects.
I was glad to hear of Milnes, whose _Poems_ already lay on my
table when your letter came. Since the little _Nature_ book is
not quite dead, I have sent you a few copies, and wish you would
offer one to Mr. Milnes with my respects. I hope before a great
while I may have somewhat better to send him. I am ashamed that
my little books should be "quoted" as you say.
My affectionate salutations to Mrs. Carlyle, who is to sanction
and enforce all I have written on the migration. In the prospect
of your coming I feel it to be foolish to write. I have very
much to say to you. But now only Good Bye.
--R.W. Emerson
XLII. Carlyle to Emerson
Chelsea, London, 29 May, 1839
My Dear Emerson,--Your Letter, dated Boston, 20th April, has been
here for some two weeks. Miss Sedgwick, whom it taught us to
expect in "about a fortnight," has yet given no note of herself,
but shall be right welcome whenever she appears. Miss
Martineau's absence (she is in Switzerland this summer) will
probably be a loss to the fair Pilgrim;--which of course the rest
of us ought to exert ourselves to make good.... My Lectures are
happily over ten days ago; with "success" enough, as it is
called; the only _valuable_ part of which is some L200, gained
with great pain, but also with great brevity:--economical respite
for another solar year! The people were boundlessly tolerant;
my agitation beforehand was less this year, my remorse afterwards
proportionally greater. There was but one moderately good
Lecture, the last,--on Sausculottism, to an audience mostly Tory,
and rustling with the beautifulest quality silks! Two things I
find: first that _I ought to have had a horse;_ I had only
three incidental rides or gallops, hired rides; my horse
_Yankee_ is never yet purchased, but it shall be, for I cannot
live, except in great pain, without a horse. It was sweet beyond
measure to escape out of the dustwhirlpool here, and _fly,_ in
solitude, through the ocean of verdure and splendor, as far as
Harrow and back again; and one's nerves were _clear_ next day,
and words lying in one like water in a well. But the _second_
thing I found was, that extempore speaking, especially in the way
of Lecture, is an _art_ or craft, and requires an apprenticeship,
which I have never served. Repeatedly it has come into my head
that I should go to America, this very Fall, and belecture you
from North to South till I learn it! Such a thing does lie in
the bottom-scenes, should hard come to hard; and looks pleasant
enough.--On the whole, I say sometimes, I must either begin a
Book, or do it. Books are the lasting thing; Lectures are like
corn ground into flour; there are loaves for today, but no wheat
harvests for next year. Rudiments of a new Book (thank Heaven!)
do sometimes disclose themselves in me. _Festina lente._ It
ought to be better than the _French Revolution;_ I mean better
written. The greater part of that Book, as I read proof-sheets
of it in these weeks, does nothing but _disgust_ me. And yet it
was, as nearly as was good, the utmost that lay in me. I should
not like to be nearer killed with any other Book!--Books too are
a triviality. Life alone is great; with its infinite spaces,
its everlasting times, with its Death, with its Heaven and its
Hell. Ah me!
Wordsworth is here at present; a garrulous, rather watery, not
wearisome old man. There is a freshness as of brooks and
mountain breezes in him; one says of him: Thou art not great,
but thou art genuine; well speed _thou._ Sterling is home from
Italy, recovered in health, indeed very well could he but _sit
still._ He is for Clifton, near Bristol, for the next three
months. I hear him speak of some sonnet or other he means to
address to you: as for me he knows well that I call his
verses timber toned, without true melody either in thought,
phrase or sound. The good John! Did you ever see such a vacant
turnip-lantern as that Walsingham Goethe? Iconoclast Collins
strikes his wooden shoe through him, and passes on, saying almost
nothing.--My space is done! I greet the little _maidkin,_ and
bid her welcome to this unutterable world. Commend her, poor
little thing, to her little Brother, to her Mother and Father;--
Nature, I suppose, has sent her strong letters of recommendation,
without our help, to them all. Where I shall be in six weeks is
not very certain; likeliest in Scotland, whither our whole
household, servant and all, is pressingly invited, where they
have provided horses and gigs. Letters sent hither will still
find me, or lie waiting for me, safe: but perhaps the
_speediest_ address will be "Care of Fraser, 215 Regent Street."
My Brother wants me to the Tyrol and Vienna; but I think I shall
not go. Adieu, dear friend. It is a great treasure to me that I
have you in this world. My Wife salutes you all.--
Yours ever and ever,
T. Carlyle
XLIII. Carlyle to Emerson
Chelsea, London, 24 June, 1833
Dear Friend,--Two Letters from you were brought hither by Miss
Sedgwick last week. The series of post Letters is a little
embroiled in my head; but I have a conviction that all hitherto
due have arrived; that up to the date of my last despatch (a
_Proof-sheet_ and a Letter), which ought to be getting into your
hands in these very days, our correspondence is clear. That
Letter and Proof-sheet, two separate pieces, were sent to
Liverpool some three weeks ago, to be despatched by the first
conveyance thence; as I say, they are probably in Boston about
this time. The Proof-sheet was one of the forty-seven such which
the new _French Revolution_ is to consist of: with this, as with
a correct sample, you were to act upon some Boston Bookseller,
and make a bargain for me,--or at least report that none was to
be made. A bad bargain will content me now, my hopes are not at
all high.
For the present, I am to announce on the part of Bookseller
Fraser that the First Portion of our celebrated _Miscellanies_
have been hovering about on these coasts for several weeks, have
lain safe "in the River" for some two weeks, and ought at last to
be safe in Fraser's shop today or else to morrow. I will ask
there, and verify, before this Letter go. The reason of these
"two weeks in the river" is that the packages were addressed
"_John_ Fraser, London," and the people had tried all the Frasers
in London before they attempted the right individual, James, of
215 Regent Street. Of course, the like mistake in the second
case will be avoided. A Letter, put ashore at Falmouth, and
properly addressed, but without any _signature,_ had first of all
announced that the thing was at the door, and so with this "John
Fraser," it has been knocking ever since, finding difficult
admission. In the present instance, such delay has done no ill,
for Fraser will not sell till the Second Portion come; and with
this the mistake will be avoided. What has shocked poor James
much more is a circumstance which your Boston Booksellers have no
power to avoid: the "enormousness" of the charges in our Port
here! He sends me the account of them last Saturday, with eyes--
such as drew Priam's curtains: L31 and odd silver, whereof L28
as duty on Books at L5 per cwt. is charged by the rapacious
Custom-house alone! What help, O James? I answer: we cannot
bombard the British Custom-house, and sack it, and explode it;
we must yield, and pay it the money; thankful for what is still
left.--On the whole, one has to learn by trying. This notable
finance-expedient, of printing in the one country what is to be
sold in the other, did not take Vandalic custom-houses into view,
which nevertheless do seem to exist. We must persist in it for
the present reciprocal pair of times, having started in it for
these: but on future occasions always, we can ask the past; and
_see_ whether it be not better to let each side of the water
stand on its own basis.
As for your "accounts," my Friend, I find them clear as day,
verifiable to the uttermost farthing. You are a good man to
conquer your horror of arithmetic; and, like hydrophobic Peter
of Russia making himself a sailor, become an Accountant for my
sake. But now will you forgive me if I never do verify this same
account, or look at it more in this world except as a memento of
affection, its arithmetical ciphers so many hierograms, really
_sacred_ to me! A reflection I cannot but make is that at bottom
this money was all yours; not a penny of it belonged to me by
any law except that of helpful Friendship. I feel as if I could
not examine it without a kind of crime. For the rest, you may
rejoice to think that, thanks to you and the Books, and to Heaven
over all, I am for the present no longer poor; but have a
reasonable prospect of existing, which, as I calculate, is
literally the most that money can do for a man. Not for these
twelve years, never since I had a house to maintain with money,
have I had as much money in my possession as even now. _Allah
kerim!_ We will hope all that is good on that side. And
herewith enough of _it._
You tell me you are but "a reporter": I like you for thinking
so. And you will never know that it is _not true,_ till you have
tried. Meanwhile, far be it from me to urge you to a trial
before your time come. Ah, it will come, and soon enough; much
better, perhaps, if it never came!--A man has "_such_ a baptism
to be baptized withal," no easy baptism; and is "straitened till
