Literature and Life | Page 9

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.
The author is not to blame for his superficial delusion to the contrary,
especially if he has written a book that has set every one 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; 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
now 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 than there would have been in any other line of business
released to the unrestricted plunder of the neighbor. There was for a
long time even a comity among these amiable buccaneers, who agreed
not to interfere with each other, and so were enabled to pay over to
their victims some portion of the profit from their stolen goods. Of all
business men publishers are probably the most faithful and honorable,
and are only surpassed in virtue when men of letters turn business men.
VII.
Publishers have their little theories, their little superstitions, and their
blind faith in the great god Chance which we all worship. These things
lead them into temptation and adversity, but they seem to do fairly well
as business men, even in their own behalf. They do not make above the
usual ninety-five per cent. of failures, and more publishers than authors
get rich.
Some theories or superstitions publishers and authors share together.
One of these is that it is best to keep your books all in the hands of one
publisher if you can, because then he can give them more attention and

sell more of them. But my own experience is that when my books were
in the hands of three publishers they sold quite as well as when one had
them; and a fellow-author whom I approached in question of this
venerable belief laughed at it. This bold heretic held that it was best to
give each new book to a new publisher, for then the fresh man put all
his energies into pushing it; but if you had them all together, the
publisher rested in a vain security that one book would sell another, and
that the fresh venture would revive the public interest in the stale ones.
I never knew this