never finish it. Yet it is not quite pleasant for an author to
announce himself, or to be announced, as finally broken down as to
his literary faculty. It is a pity that I let you put this work in
your programme for the year, for I had always a presentiment that it
would fail us at the pinch. Say to the public what you think best,
and as little as possible; for example: 'We regret that Mr.
Hawthorne's Romance, announced for this magazine some months ago,
still lies upon the author's writing-table, he having been
interrupted in his labor upon it by an impaired state of health';
or, 'We are sorry to hear (but know not whether the public will
share our grief) that Mr. Hawthorne is out of health and is thereby
prevented, for the present, from proceeding with another of his
promised (or threatened) Romances, intended for this magazine'; or,
'Mr. Hawthorne's brain is addled at last, and, much to our
satisfaction, he tells us that he cannot possibly go on with the
Romance announced on the cover of the January magazine. We consider
him finally shelved, and shall take early occasion to bury him under
a heavy article, carefully summing up his merits (such as they were)
and his demerits, what few of them can be touched upon in our
limited space'; or, 'We shall commence the publication of Mr.
Hawthorne's Romance as soon as that gentleman chooses to forward it.
We are quite at a loss how to account for this delay in the
fulfilment of his contract; especially as he has already been most
liberally paid for the first number.' Say anything you like, in
short, though I really don't believe that the public will care what
you say or whether you say anything. If you choose, you may publish
the first chapter as an insulated fragment, and charge me with the
overpayment. I cannot finish it unless a great change comes over me;
and if I make too great an effort to do so, it will be my death; not
that I should care much for that, if I could fight the battle