In July he wrote, “You had better agree with them” (Rudd & Carleton) “for twenty per cent., and let me take care of you, or I foresee you will get nothing for your trouble.  I only want fifteen for myself, and a true return of the copies sold.  That is where we poor authors are done.  Will you look to that?  I have placed five pounds to your credit,—­this with the double object of enabling you to buy me an American scrap-book or two (no poetry, for God’s sake!) of newspaper-cuttings, and also to reimburse a number of little expenses you have been at for me and too liberal to mention.”

On September 12, 1861, he wrote, “I send you herewith the first instalment of early sheets of my new novel.  The title is ’The Cloister and the Hearth.’  I am ashamed to say the work will contain fifteen hundred of these pages.  If you are out of it, I will take fifteen per cent.; if you are in it, twelve.  But I look to you to secure a genuine return, for that is the difficulty with these publishers.  There is considerable competition among publishers here to have the book, and I am only hanging back to get you out the sheets.  Now you know the number of pages (for the work is written), it would be advisable to set up type.”

On September 26, 1861, he wrote, “As we shall certainly come out next week, I shall be in considerable anxiety until I hear from you that all the instalments sent by me have safely arrived and are in type.  To secure despatch, I have sent them all by post, and, owing to the greediness of the United States government, it has cost me five pounds.  I do not for a moment suppose the work will sell well during the civil war; but it is none the less important to occupy the shops with it, and then perhaps on the return of peace and the fine arts it will not be pirated away from us.  I hope I have been sufficiently explicit to make you master of this book’s destiny.”

On October 18, 1861, he wrote, “We have now been out a fortnight, and, as it is my greatest success, we are gone coons if you are not out by this time.”

A week later his uneasiness had been allayed by a letter from me announcing the publication of the work in New York, and he wrote, “I think you have done very well, considering the complicated difficulties you have had to contend against in this particular transaction.  The work is quite the rage here, I assure you.  We sold the first edition (a thousand) at one pound eleven shillings and sixpence in one fortnight from date of publication, and have already orders for over two hundred of the second at same price, which we are now printing.

“I will this day place in S. Low’s hands for you the manuscript of ’Nobs and Snobs,’ a successful play of mine, luckily unpublished.  Treat with a New York manager or a Boston manager for this on these terms.  Sell them the sole use of it in one city only for ten dollars per night of representation, the play not to be locked up or shelved, but to return to you at the conclusion of the run.”