LETTER LV.
Letter from Clarence.
Dear Robert,—I will honestly confess that your arguments
expressed and implied have modified my views on the
several subjects about which we have been battling for
some months past. Still I do think you are sometimes a little
snappish, and write as if you lived in a tub and were cramped
for room. Certainly your chirography looks as if you did
not know the writing masters were abroad in the land; which
makes me believe you do not mingle much with the world,
confining your movement to the circumference of a very
small circle—moving, indeed, pretty actively, yet like a
squirrel in a cage.
In other words, Robert, I fear you are behind the age.
If you wish to overtake the times you must move more
ahead. Perhaps we are both wrong, I too lax, you too
rigid. If we were adroitly twisted into one, our cord would
be stronger and draw a greater burden. Grown folks are
very much like children, and we must occasionally humor
them; for if they are sick and will not take your medicines
exhibited, you must conceal the doses in coating of sugar-plums
and by admixtures of delicious syrups. Many a
cunning fellow will have cascaded the public by means of
his popular nostrums covering most nauseating doses, before
fellows like you can persuade them to take physic.
I am aware how these remarks will stir you, Robert;
and it would not be difficult, from my intimate acquaintance
with your style, to say pretty much all you can answer, and
in the same way, even to your commenting on the change
of figures from cord to cascade, in the last paragraph; but to
tell the truth I am disposed, for a season at least, to have a
suspension of hostilities. Do not think, however, my ammunition
is expended, but my time is so occupied that I must
beg a truce.
As I intend soon to crave your aid, I may as well say at
once, that a literary gentleman at Somewhersburg is about
to become editor of a periodical; that I am engaged to furnish
something weekly; and that I shall request you to forward
something in the shape of prose or poetry, since whatever
you furnish will be in lieu of mine.
By the way, will you permit me to publish in Mr. Keen's
Magazine some of your letters? I have reason to believe
many would be acceptable, and might do some good—come,
what do you say?
At all events, send on just now, to begin with, some verse;
and yet be admonished, Keen is difficult to please, and may
very possibly reject your rhymes.
But mark me, Carlton, you must allow us the stanzas and
so forth, pro bono publico—we do not pay in this quarter.
And for this liberal policy we have two good reasons, superior
to any sixteen to the contrary—in the first place we have no
money, and in the second, poetry and tales of the very first
chop, and in any quantity, can be had for the asking; and,
indeed, some clever geniuses will often pay to be printed.
In haste,
Yours, &c.
C. Clarence.
