burning in my head, and I don't
think I _can_ write. Nevertheless, I am trying. In case I should
succeed, and should not come down to you this morning, shall you be at
the club or elsewhere after dinner? I am bent on paying the money. And
before going into the matter with anybody I should like you to propound
from me the one preliminary question to Bradbury and Evans. It is more
than a year and a half since Clowes wrote to urge me to give him a
hearing, in case I should ever think of altering my plans. A printer is
better than a bookseller, and it is quite as much the interest of one
(if not more) to join me. But whoever it is, or whatever, I am bent upon
paying Chapman and Hall _down_. And when I have done that, Mr. Hall
shall have a piece of my mind."

What he meant by the proposed repayment will be understood by what
formerly was said of his arrangements with these gentlemen on the
repurchase of his early copyrights. Feeling no surprise at this
announcement, I yet prevailed with him to suspend proceedings until his
return from Broadstairs in October; and what then I had to say led to
memorable resolves. The communication he had desired me to make to his
printers had taken them too much by surprise to enable them to form a
clear judgment respecting it; and they replied by suggestions which were
in effect a confession of that want of confidence in themselves. They
enlarged upon the great results that would follow a reissue of his
writings in a cheap form; they strongly urged such an undertaking; and
they offered to invest to any desired amount in the establishment of a
magazine or other periodical to be edited by him. The possible dangers,
in short, incident to their assuming the position of publishers as well
as printers of new works from his pen, seemed at first to be so much
greater than on closer examination they were found to be, that at the
outset they shrank from encountering them. And hence the remarkable
letter I shall now quote (1st of November, 1843).

"Don't be startled by the novelty and extent of my project. Both
startled _me_ at first; but I am well assured of its wisdom and
necessity. I am afraid of a magazine--just now. I don't think the time a
good one, or the chances favourable. I am afraid of putting myself
before the town as writing tooth and nail for bread, headlong, after the
close of a book taking so much out of one as _Chuzzlewit_. I am afraid I
could not do it, with justice to myself. I know