"I am delighted," he writes to his publisher, "at what you tell me
about the kind appreciation of my articles, for I feel rather gloomy
about them myself.... I cannot come to Boston to spend more than a day,
just at present. It would suit me better to come for a visit when the
spring of next year is a little advanced, and if you renew your
hospitable proposition then, I shall probably be glad to accept it;
though I have now been a hermit so long, that the thought affects me
somewhat as it would to invite a lobster or a crab to step out of his
shell."
His whole tone with regard to "Our Old Home" seems to have been one of
fatigue and discouragement. He had, besides, to deal with the harassing
question of the dedication to Franklin Pierce, which he solved in this
manly and admirable letter to his publisher:--
"I thank you for your note of the 15th instant, and have delayed my
reply thus long in order to ponder deeply on your advice, smoke cigars
over it, and see what it might be possible for me to do towards taking
it. I find that it would be a piece of poltroonery in me to withdraw
either the dedication or the dedicatory letter. My long and intimate
personal relations with Pierce render the dedication altogether proper,
especially as regards this book, which would have had no existence
without his kindness; and if he is so exceedingly unpopular that his
name is enough to sink the volume, there is so much the more need that
an old friend should stand by him.
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