So it seems that notwithstanding all the importunities and posturings of the kneeling scene, Mr. Hunt was unmoved—for it was after the curtain had fallen on this act that he quietly writes, “I propose same style as ‘City Curate.’ Do you like it?” All its pathos had not been sufficient to keep the act itself in mind. When I first suggested “Sir Thomas Browne,” he agreed at once, but afterwards apparently forgot it and mentioned “City Curate,” as if nothing had before been said on the subject. Finding then that I wanted the “Sir Thomas,” he does not so much as reply, but simply binds the book according to my wishes. There is no sign of any objection to it on his part from the beginning to the end, so that the candid inquirer is at a loss to know why I should have knelt, except from native humility of spirit and taste for the suppliant posture—which nobody can deny.
As the ministers remark, “we shall resume this subject in the afternoon's discourse.” I only say here what, à la Ollendorf's grammar, I had a mind but no time to say to the referees.
After we had all slept upon it and returned to our moutons next morning, Messrs. Hunt, Parry, & Co. brought in proof to show that I did know that fifteen hundred books were exempted in the first edition. This was an account in one of their books in which the exemption appeared. But in their copy of the accounts sent to me, drawn up by their clerk for the referees, the latter remarked that no such item appeared. Messrs. Parry and Markman thought it might be the clerk's mistake in copying. The referees asked me if I had my accounts with me. As they had been my literature for sixteen months, I was inclined to think I had. The original papers were produced and no mention was found in them of any exempted copies. Mr. Parry said that as the item was down in the books it must have been put there for the purpose of sending to me. Mr. Markman thought this particular account might have been lost in the mail. But the accounts which I held covered all the time of my transactions with Messrs. B. & H. Mr. Parry thought the entry in their books would at least show their good intentions.
The second edition of “City Lights” numbered five hundred copies. No edition was so large as the first, except the eleventh, which numbered two thousand copies. Another fact came out of which I had not before been aware, that three hundred copies had been exempted on every book. These I suppose had been distributed as advertisements.
Regarding the change in payments from percentage to a fixed sum, the firm claimed that it was made with my full knowledge, understanding, and consent, as would be proved by Mr. Hunt's testimony. Whereupon Mr. Parry gave place to Mr. Hunt, who deposed and said—or rather, to his grief, did not depose, but was obliged to content himself with saying,—that on a certain time he held a long conversation with me on the subject of the change, in which he fully explained to me its nature and necessity. He remembered that at first I was disposed to be trifling, but he begged that I would be serious, and assured me that this was a serious matter. He remembered using the expression, that their house was shaking in the wind. He explained to me over and over again, to make sure that I understood the state of affairs and the reasons which necessitated the change, and repeatedly asked me, “Do you understand this clearly?” and I said that I did, and “Do you assent to it?” and I answered “Yes.” Then, fastening upon me a look—apparently designed to be penetrating and powerful enough to reach the lowest depths of duplicity and to wring late confession even from a perjured soul,—he exclaimed, “I think, M. N., you must remember this.”
Of course I was overwhelmed with confusion, but having persisted in the falsehood so long it was hardly worth while to go down on my knees to the gentleman a second time, so I received his gaze in silence. In fact, Mars Hill House witnessed then what the hymn calls “the young dawn of heaven below,” inasmuch as there was silence in the room for the space of not quite half an hour. It was broken by the referees, who said that it was perhaps proper to ask me here if I remembered any such conversation. I said that I did not recollect it. They asked Mr. Hunt if he had any correspondence which referred to it. He said no, only the letter of mine which I had myself produced, in which I admitted it. But he remembered it with exact clearness. He could recall just the sofa on which he sat. He was so confident that he wished he could take his oath on it. They asked him whether I happened to be in Athens or whether he sent for me. He was not sure, but thought he sent for me. They asked him if in this conversation it was understood that “City Lights” was to be included in the second contract. He said “distinctly.” I asked if he could define the time when the conversation occurred. He could not, but it was some time before the second contract was made, and was the basis of that contract. I asked if he could tell whether it was in the old shop or the new. He said it was in the new. He did not add, what would have been a most effective peroration to his speech,—
“I reside at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James;
I am not up to small deceit or any sinful games.”
This little matter being thus comfortably disposed of, Mr. Parry again took up the thread of his discourse.
With regard to the change in payment to authors from a percentage to a fixed sum, he said that such a change was desirable because everything was changing and uncertain. He reiterated his statement as to the variations that had been made in the retail price of my books; said that authors generally did accede to the change; admitted that Mrs.—— had had some difficulty, that her mind seemed to have been jaundiced towards them, that her sister, Miss——, had examined their books, and that Mrs.—— had now become satisfied that all was right; that I, before the reference, neither admitted nor denied that I had acceded to their proposal, but only affirmed that I did not recollect about it. He denied that there was any prescriptive custom of paying the author ten per cent., though as before, he objected to bringing in the modes of other publishers, as Hunt, Parry, & Co. transacted business on their own account without consulting others. Which is all very true, doubtless, yet the prejudiced observer, seeing how much is said about the great liberality of this firm, can but marvel that they should have been willing to miss so brilliant an opportunity of contrasting their own liberality with the niggardliness of those sordid book-men who publish, not for glory and high emprise, but simply to make money. Mr. Parry said this also was a reason why the questions propounded to them by Mr. Dane antecedent to the reference seemed irrelevant. They were asked to state their income and that from the “Adriatic.” But they might make a great deal of money in outside ways,—by speculating in butter, for instance,—of which it was not pertinent that they should give any account. He was asked why, if there was no prescribed custom to pay ten per cent., they themselves fixed on ten per cent. as the rate of payment for “City Lights.” He said that they were disposed to be liberal; that there were no fluctuations then; that such a prescriptive custom may then have existed, he would not say that ten per cent. was not common, though he did not himself know what was the custom among other publishers. He was asked why “City Lights” was not by name included in the second contract if its provisions were intended to apply to “City Lights,” and why the other works were not also included in a contract. He replied, that it was because a verbal understanding had been reached; that if they had supposed or intended any wrong, they would certainly have so included it; that the absence of contracts was owing to a basis of mutual understanding and verbal agreements. He was asked if they had any letters bearing on such verbal agreements, and he said they had not.