was not the fault of the half-profits system, it was the fault of
the glad young author who did not distinctly inform himself of
its mysterious nature in agreeing to it, and had only to reproach
himself if he was finally disappointed.

But there is always something disappointing in the accounts of
publishers, which I fancy is because authors are strangely
constituted, rather than because publishers are so. I will
confess that I have such inordinate expectations of the sale of
my books which I hope I think modestly of, that the sales
reported to me never seem great enough. The copyright due me, no
matter how handsome it is, appears deplorably mean, and I feel
impoverished for several days after I get it. But then, I ought
to add that my balance in the bank is always much less than I
have supposed it to be, and my own checks, when they come back to
me, have the air of having been in a conspiracy to betray me.

No, we literary men must learn, no matter how we boast ourselves
in business, that the distress we feel from our publisher's
accounts is simply idiopathic; and I for one wish to bear my
witness to the constant good faith and uprightness of publishers.

It is supposed that because they have the affair altogether in
their hands they are apt to take advantage in it; but this does
not follow, and as a matter of fact they have the affair no more
in their own hands than any other business man you have an open
account with. There is nothing to prevent you from looking at
their books, except your own innermost belief and fear that their
books are correct, and that your literature has brought you so
little because it has sold so little.