en a book that has set everyone
talking, because it is of a vital interest. It may be of a vital
interest, without being at all the kind of book people want to buy; it
may be the kind of book that they are content to know at second hand;
there are such fatal books; but hearing so much, and reading so much
about it, the author cannot help hoping that it has sold much more than
the publisher says. The publisher is undoubtedly honest, however, and
the author had better put away the comforting question of his integrity.

The English writers seem largely to suspect their publishers (I cannot
say with how much reason, for my English publisher is Scotch, and I
should be glad to be so true a man as I think him); but I believe that
American authors, when not flown with flattering reviews, as largely
trust theirs. Of course there are rogues in every walk of life. I
will not say that I ever personally met them in the flowery paths of
literature, but I have heard of other people meeting them there, just
as I have heard of people seeing ghosts, and I have to believe in both
the rogues and the ghosts, without the witness of my own senses. I
suppose, upon such grounds mainly, that there are wicked publishers,
but in the case of our books that do not sell, I am afraid that it is
the graceless and inappreciative public which is far more to blame than
the wickedest of the publishers. It is true that publishers will drive
a hard bargain when they can, or when they must; but there is nothing
to hinder an author from driving a hard bargain, too, when he can, or
when he must; and it is to be said of the publisher that he is always
more willing to abide by the bargain when it is made than the author
is; perhaps because he has the best of it. But he has not always the
best of it; I have known publishers too generous to take advantage of
the innocence of authors; and I fancy that if publishers had to do with
any race less diffident than authors, they would have won a repute for
unselfishness that they do not now enjoy. It is certain that in the
long period when we flew the black flag of piracy there were many among
our corsairs on the high seas of literature who paid a fair price for
the stranger craft they seized; still oftener they removed the cargo,
and released their capture with several weeks' provision; and although
there was undoubtedly a good deal of actual throat-cutting and
scuttling, still I feel sure that there was less of it