"Nov. 27. Worked all day as hard as possible at index to "Graphic Arts,"
and got it finished at midnight."
He was in time, but Mr. Seeley wrote:--
"Now Goupil"s delay [about the ill.u.s.trations] threatens to become most serious. We have now orders for 1050 copies, large and small, so we have already surpa.s.sed the sale of "Etching and Etchers," third edition."
Alas! there was a very distressing item of news in the letter dated December 1:--
"The enclosed letter from Goupil is a complete upset. It seems that the printing of the Louvre drawings [Footnote: Two drawings by Zucchero and Watteau. The latter was in black, red, and white chalk. The reproduction was printed from one plate, the different colored inks being rubbed in by the printer. Only about ten prints could be taken in a day.] will take five or six months.
"We must decide at once what to do. This is one plan. If we can get all the other ill.u.s.trations ready, then to publish as soon as we can, putting these three plates in the large paper copies only, and in the others a slip of paper explaining how tedious the printing is, and promising that these ill.u.s.trations shall be delivered in the spring to any purchaser who produces the slip.
"This is one plan. If you prefer it, please telegraph _Yes_.
"The other plan is to postpone the publication, and bring out the complete book in the spring. If you prefer this, please telegraph _No_.
"I leave the matter entirely in your hands. Pray decide as you judge best."
This delay was most provoking after the hard work the author had given to the book to have it out in good time, and also because the orders were increasing; they had now reached 315 copies for the large edition, and 868 of the small one. Still, there was no help for it, and the publication must be postponed rather than give an imperfect book to the public. Both author and publisher agreed in that decision.
On December 17, 1881, Mr. Hamerton received the following letter:--
"19 WARWICK CRESCENT.
"DEAR MR. HAMERTON,--You will do me an honor indeed by the dedication you propose, and my own little worthiness to receive it becomes of secondary importance when taken with the exceeding importance of the truth you insist upon in connection with it--a truth always plain to me, however moderately I may have been able to ill.u.s.trate its value.
"Thank you very much: you will add to my obligation by the visit you so kindly promise.
"I return you the best of Christmas wishes, and am ever, dear Mr.
Hamerton,
"Yours most truly,
"ROBERT BROWNING."
I transcribe the dedication to explain Mr. Browning"s letter.
"TO ROBERT BROWNING.
"I wish to dedicate this book to you as the representative of a cla.s.s which ought to be more numerous,--the cla.s.s of large-minded persons who take a lively interest in arts which are not specially their own. No one who had not carefully observed the narrowing of men"s minds by specialities could believe to what a degree it goes. Instead of being open, as yours has always been, to the influences of literature, in the largest sense, as well as to the influences of the graphic arts and music, the specialized mind shuts itself up in its own pursuit so exclusively that it does not even know what is nearest to its own closed doors. We meet with scholars who take no more account of the graphic arts than if they did not exist, and with painters who never read; but what is still more surprising, is the complete indifference with which an art can be regarded by men who know and practise another not widely removed from it. One may be a painter and yet know nothing whatever about any kind of engraving; one may be a skilled engraver, and yet work in lifelong misunderstanding of the rapid arts. If the specialists who devote themselves to a single study had more of your interest in the work of others, they might find, as you have done, that the quality which may be called open-mindedness is far from being an impediment to success, even in the highest and most arduous of artistic and intellectual pursuits."
Mr. Hamerton was so adverse to puffing of any kind and to noise being made about his name, that he neglected the most honest means of having it brought forward to public notice; for instance, he had been asked in November, 1881, for notes on his life for a book to be ent.i.tled "The Victorian Era of English Literature," and had forgotten all about it. He had to be reminded in 1882 that he had promised to send the notes.
I suppose that the following letter from R. L. Stevenson must have been received about this time. It is almost impossible to ascertain, as--like the others--it bears no date.
"VILLA AM STEIN, DAVOS PLATZ, GRISONS, SWITZERLAND.
"MY DEAR MR. HAMERTON,--My conscience has long been smiting me, till it became nearly chronic. My excuses, however, are many and not pleasant.
Almost immediately after I last wrote to you, I had a hemorreage (I can"t spell it), was badly treated by a doctor in the country, and have been a long while picking up--still, in fact, have much to desire on that side. Next, as soon as I got here, my wife took ill; she is, I fear, seriously so; and this combination of two invalids very much depresses both.
"I have a volume of republished essays coming out with Chatto and Windus; I wish they would come, that my wife might have the reviews to divert her. Otherwise my news is nil. I am up here in a little chalet, on the borders of a pine-wood, overlooking a great part of the Davos Thai: a beautiful scene at night, with the moon upon the snowy mountains and the lights warmly shining in the village. J. A. Symonds is next door to me, just at the foot of my Hill Difficulty (this you will please regard as the House Beautiful), and his society is my great stand-by.
"Did you see I had joined the band of the rejected? "Hardly one of us,"
said my _confreres_ at the bar.
"I was blamed by a common friend for asking you to give me a testimonial: in the circ.u.mstances he thought it was indelicate. Lest, by some calamity, you should ever have felt the same way, I must say in two words how the matter appeared to me. That silly story of the election altered in no t.i.ttle the value of your testimony: so much for that. On the other hand, it led me to take a quite particular pleasure in asking you to give it; and so much for the other. I trust even if you cannot share it, you will understand my view.
"I am in treaty with Bentley for a life of Hazlitt; I hope it will not fall through, as I love the subject, and appear to have found a publisher who loves it also. That, I think, makes things more pleasant.
You know I am a fervent Hazlitt.i.te; I mean, regarding him as _the_ English writer who has had the scantiest justice. Besides which, I am anxious to write biography; really, if I understand myself in quest of profit, I think it must be good to live with another man from birth to death. You have tried it and know.
"How has the cruising gone? Pray remember me to Mrs. Hamerton and your son, and believe me,
"Yours very sincerely,
"ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON."
Throughout this year the diary was kept in Italian, and the reading of Italian books was pretty regularly kept up; among them were Olanda, Petrarch, and Ariosto. He soon abandoned Petrarch, whom he did not value much; here is the reason: "I prefer the clear movement of Ariosto to all the conceits of the sonnet-maker."
"Human Intercourse" was begun, and to save time, two copies were written simultaneously--one for England and the other for America--by inserting a sheet of black copying paper between two sheets of thin "Field and Tuer" paper, and writing with a hard lead pencil and sufficient pressure to obtain a duplicate on the page placed underneath. Roberts Brothers were very desirous of seeing this new work, and had written: "We should like to make "Human Intercourse" a companion volume to the "Intellectual Life," and the t.i.tle is so suggestive of something good that we hope you will hasten the good time of its appearance."
The publication of the "Graphic Arts" had been fixed for March 1, but a copy having been got ready at the end of January, it was sent as a compliment to Mr. Sagar of the Burnley Mechanics" Inst.i.tution, and Mr.
Seeley said: "The Burnley people are delighted at having had the first sight of the "Graphic Arts." Mr. Sagar writes that from what he saw of it, he has no hesitation in saying that it is the best book you have written, and does great credit to everybody concerned in its production."
The book was highly appreciated by those competent to judge and understand the subjects. Mr. Haden wrote about it a letter of fourteen pages. Though he calls it himself "an unconscionably long letter," it is most interesting throughout, but I only quote a few pa.s.sages from it.
"I have been reading the "Graphic Arts" with great interest. It is, or rather must have been, a formidable undertaking. I like your chapter on "Useful and Aesthetic Drawing." Your insistence on keeping the two things separate, and claiming for each its value, is a great lesson--read, too, just at the right time.
"And in your "Drawing for Artistic Pleasure," the great lesson there is, that true artistic pleasure can only be excited in others by the artist that _knows_ what he is about, though he does not express it. Did you ever see a drawing or an etching by Victor Hugo? Hugo is a poet, and affects to be an artist. But his knowledge of what is or should be _organic_, in every picture, is so lamentably absent, that his poetry (sought to be imparted in that shape) goes for nothing.
"In "Right and Wrong in Drawing," which is excellently written, the concluding paragraph is admirable. The chapter on "Etching and Dry-Point" is charmingly written, easy and refined in diction, and set down _con amore_."
Then came this letter from Mr. Browning:--
"19 WARWICK CRESCENT, W. _March_ 6, 1882.
"DEAR MR. HAMERTON,--I thought your dedication a great honor to me, and should have counted it such had it simply prefaced a pamphlet. To connect it with this magnificent book is indeed engraving my name on a jewel, instead of stone or even marble.
"Your sumptuous present reached me two days ago--and will be consigned to "my library," when the best jewel I boast of is disposed of on my dressing-table among articles proper to the place: no, indeed--it shall be encased as a jewel should, on a desk for all to see how the author has chosen to ill.u.s.trate the [painting- and] drawing-room of the author"s admirer and (dares he add?) friend,
"ROBERT BROWNING."
Mr. Alfred Hunt also wrote: "I can see that the plan of the book is admirable. I often want to know something about art processes which I don"t practise myself, and which I might be stimulated into trying if I was only younger."
The sale of the book was rapid, and before six weeks had elapsed so few copies remained that the prices were raised to fifteen guineas for the large edition, and to seven and a half guineas for the small one. But the author had overworked himself, and hurry had brought back the old enemy--insomnia. Mr. Seeley, who had lately suffered from lumbago, wrote:--
"Sleeplessness is a far worse thing than lumbago. You are right in taking it seriously. I have little doubt, however, that by avoiding overwork--and especially hurried work--and getting plenty of exercise, you will overcome the tendency. If you ever do another big book, we must take two or three years for it, and have no sort of hurry. I once thought of the "Landscape Painters" as a good subject for a big book."
In a subsequent letter Mr. Seeley gives a great deal of thoughtful consideration to what might suit his friend"s requirements:--