New York, June 7.
Dear Folks—
I suppose we shall be many a league at sea tomorrow night, & goodness knows I shall be unspeakably glad of it.
I haven’t got [ anything ]to write, else I would write it. I have just written myself clear out in letters to the Alta, & I think they are the stupidest letters that were ever written from New York. Corresponding has been a perfect drag ever since I got to the Stateƒs. If it continues, abroad, I don’t know what the Tribune & Alta folks will think.
I have withdrawn the Sandwich Island book—it would be useless to publish it in these dull publishing times. As for the Frog book, I don’t believe that will ever pay anything worth a cent. I published it simply to advertise myself & not with the hope of making anything out of it.1
Well, I haven’t anything to write, except that I am so tired of staying in one place that I am in a fever to get away. Read r my Alta letters—they contain everything I could possibly write to you. Tell Zeb & John Leavenworth to write me—they can get plenty of gossip from Essie & Lou & the pilots.2
An importing house3 sent [ me two ]cases of exquisite champaign aboard the ship for me to-day—Veuve Cliquot & [ L’a Lac ]d’Or. I & my room-mate have set apart every Saturday as a solemn fast-day, wherein we will entertain no light matters or frivolous conversation, but only get drunk. {That is a joke.} His mother & sisters are the best & most home-like people I have yet found in a brown-stone front. There is no style about them except in house [& ]furniture.4
I wish Orion were going on this voyage, for I believe with so many months of freedom from business cares he could not help but be cheerful & jolly. I often wonder if his law business [it ]going satisfactorily to him, but knowing that the dull season is setting in now (it looked like it had already set [ it in ] in before,) I have felt as if I could almost answer the question myself—which is to say in plain words, I was afraid to ask. I wish I had gone to Washington in the winter instead of going West. I could have gouged an office out of Bill Stewart for him, & that would have atoned for the loss of my home [visit.5 But I am so worthless that it seems to me I never do anything or accomplish anything that lingers in my mind as a pleasant memory. My mind is stored full of unworthy [conduct ]toward Orion & toward you all, & an accusing conscience gives me peace only in excitement & restless moving from place to place. If I could say I had done one thing that ‸for‸ any of you that entitled me to your good opinions (I say nothing of your love, for I am sure of that, no matter how unworthy of it I may make myself,—from Orion down, you have always given me that, all the days of my life, when God Almighty knows I have seldom deserved it,) I believe I could go home & stay there—& I know I would care little for the world’s praise or blame. There is no satisfaction in the world’s praise, anyhow, & it has no worth to me save in the way of business. I tried to gather up its compliments to send to you, but the work was distasteful & I dropped it.6
You observe that under a cheerful exterior I have got a spirit that is angry with me & gives me freely its contempt. I can get away from that at sea, & be tranquil & satisfied—& so, with my parting love & benediction for Orion & all of you, I say good bye & God bless you all—& welcome the winds that wafts a weary soul to the sunny lands of the Mediterranean!
Yrs forever
Sam.
Explanatory Notes | Textual Commentary
I wrote you that the article you sent the N.Y. Weekly
had been published. I now send you the paper. You will not fail to
observe the invitation to write as often as convenient. The natural
inference is that they were pleased with the article. Now I want to
advise you to write several contributions, and wait until they are
published, before you say anything about pay. I think this is
important. Mrs. Green says she has always liked your writings. She thinks your
style is particularly pleasing. I believe it is Mrs. Ludington who
says, if any thing, she likes your style better than
Sam’s. I think your style will be popular if you once
become known to the public. We have rec’d no California
paper since you left. (PAM to OC, 25 May 67, NPV) Orion’s last two letters to the San Francisco Times (the “California
paper” Pamela mentioned) were published on 22 and 23 May, and
had therefore not yet reached St. Louis. His letter to Street and
Smith’s New York Weekly (presumably
the journal Pamela referred to) has not been found, and Orion seems not
to have pursued the matter, at least not successfully. William M.
Stewart (1827–1909), Republican senator from Nevada
(1864–75 and 1887–1905), had been first among
equals in signing the “call” for Clemens to
lecture in New York. At the time of this letter, Stewart had just sent
(or was about to send) Clemens himself an offer of a post as his private
secretary (Effie Mona Mack, 55).
Source text(s):
Previous publication:
L2, 57–59; MTB, 1:320, 322–23, excerpts; MTL, 1:127–28, with omissions.
Provenance:see McKinney Family Papers, pp. 512–14.
Emendations and textual notes:
anything • any-|thing
me two • [‘two’ over ‘me’]
L’a Lac • L‸ac‸‘a
& • [possibly ‘◇ &’]
it • [sic]
it in • [‘n’ partly formed]
visit. But • visit.—|But
conduct • co[n]-|duct [torn]