Won't you come to town again? and wont you eat another cosy dinner at
my table?--And pray, dear friend Hawthorne, don't be so long
again:--and pray, once for all, recollect that you have no more
faithful nor real literary friend (perhaps, too, in other ways might I
show it) Than yours as always,
HENRY N. CHORLEY.
P. S. This is a sort of salad note, written both to "He" and "She" (as
they said in old duetts)--once again, excuse every incoherence. I am
still very ill--and have all the day been interrupted.
13 EATON PLACE, WEST, March 10, '60.
DEAR MRS. HAWTHORNE,--I assure you I feel the good nature not to be on
my side of the treaty. It is not common for a critic to get any kind
construction, or to be credited with anything save a desire to show
ingenuity, no matter whether just or unjust.--Most deeply, too, do I
feel the honor of having a suggestion such as mine adopted,--I thought
when my letter had gone that I had written in a strange, random humor,
and that had I got a "Mind your own business" sort of answer, it was
no more than such unasked-for meddling might expect. I am glad with
all my heart at what you tell me about the success of the tale. But
we really will not wait so long for number five?
To-day's train takes you my Italian story:--I had every trouble in the
world to find a publisher for it: having the gift of no-success in a
very remarkable degree. The dedication tells its own story. It was
begun in 1848:--and ended not before the Italian war broke out.
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