I need not tell you how bitterly disappointed I was at missing the promised pleasure of meeting you at dinner at President King's. It is just possible that you may not know the nature of the contretemps. Mr. King was so kind, upon my expressing a strong desire to see you, as to invite me to New York upon a certain day, when he hoped also to have the pleasure of your company. Subsequently, by letter, he countermanded this arrangement, thinking you absent from home. Nevertheless, on the day before the appointed one, I was ready, with my trunk packed, to take the afternoon boat for New York, and went to the postoffice, hoping for a summons. There was nothing there, so I remained. Five days after the dinner, I received from Mr. King a telegraphic dispatch via Nahant (where I had not been for several days), notifying me that you were to dine with him "to-morrow "-that to-morrow having already crept, with its stealthy pace, into the regions of eternal yesterday. Alas! I must say, in the bitterness of my spirit,— "The best laid schemes of mice and men Gang aft a-gley, And leave us nought but grief and pain For promised joy;' for the pleasure which I anticipated has been turned into a perpetual "grief and pain." I indulge the hope of meeting you, however, after my return. I leave this country on the 12th of this month. If I can be of any service to you in England or France during my residence there, I need not say how much it will gratify me to be of use to you. My address is, "Care of Baring Brothers & Co." Meantime, with sentiments of the most sincere respect and regard, I remain your obliged friend and servant. J. LOTHROP MOTLEY. The following brief correspondence between Mr. Irving and S. Austin Allibone, of Philadelphia, author of the "Dictionary of Authors," is not without interest : DEAR SIR [To Washington Irving.] PHILADELPHIA, October 28, 1857. Last night, or rather this morning-for it was after midnight-I was deeply engrossed with your graphic picture of your own residence in the Alhambra in the spring of 1829. It occurs to me to send you the descriptive title of Owen Jones's illustrations of the Alhambra. May I venture to ask, whether the thrilling sketch of your midnight "night-walking" through the halls of the Alhambra is an account of a real ramble, or whether it is partly a fancy picture, founded on fact? It is certainly one of your best passages, and that is saying a great deal, I am, dear sir, very truly yours, S. AUSTIN ALLIBONE. [To S. Austin Allibone.] SUNNYSIDE, November 2, 1857. MY DEAR SIR : We have in the Astor Library a copy of Owen Jones's work illustrative of the Alhambra. I have lately seen a number of photographs of various parts of the Alhambra, which I believe are intended for publication. They will give a perfectly truthful idea of the old pile. The account of my midnight rambles about the old palace is literally true, yet gives but a feeble idea of my feelings and impressions, and of the singular haunts I was exploring. Everything in the work relating to myself, and to the actual inhabitants of the Alhambra, is unexaggerated fact. It was only in the legends that I indulged in romancing; and these were founded on materials picked up about the place. With great regard, my dear sir, yours very truly, WASHINGTON IRVING. CHAPTER XXIII A LITERARY HARVEST.-ENGAGED ON HIS FIFTH VOLUME.-LETTER TO MRS. STORROW.-THE CRISIS OF 1857.-CONVERSATION. - KEMBLE.-COOKE. — COOPER. DARLEY AND DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER.-WASHINGTON ALLSTON. -LETTER TO BANCROFT.-LETTER TO PROFESSOR LIEBER.-THE ATLANTIC CABLE.-INDISPOSITION.-LETTER TO A JUVENILE CORRESPONDENT. HE year 1857 had been a calamitous year for persons engaged in trade; and Mr. Irving, who had been in suspense in regard to his publisher's affairs, found it necessary to make a settlement with Mr. Putnam, and continue his connection with him on a different footing. Their connection, thus far, had been most advantageous to both; but other enterprises swept from the upright and liberal publisher the profits realized from the sale of Irving's works. On preparing for Mr. Irving, in December, 1857, a summary of his sales and receipts from July, 1848--when he made his first agreement with Mr. Putnam for the publication of a new edition of his already published works,-to June 30th, 1857, a period of nine years, I found there had been sold about three hundred and fifty thousand volumes, and that he had realized about eighty thousand dollars; that is, his receipts had averaged about nine thousand dollars a year-a prolific literary harvest. At the opening of the year 1858, I wrote to him: "The contract with Mr. Putnam, to begin April 1st, has been executed." By this contract, Mr. Putnam, who had made a full settlement of their present business, was to act as his agent, Mr. Irving purchasing from him the stereotype plates of all his works. I had written to him on the 31st of December: "In taking a business retrospect of the year that is just closing, it may be a satisfaction to you to know that you have received from Mr. Putnam, in the course of it, what is equivalent to twenty-five thousand dollars. Though the close of the year has been attended with some annoyances, I think, therefore, you may bid it farewell with a blessing." At the date of the following letter to his niece, at Paris, Mr. Irving was trying, with apparent benefit, a prescription for an obstinate catarrh, which had been very troublesome of late. Three days after its date (February 18th), I was led, by some anxiety in regard to his health, to the cottage, to spend a few days. A temporary deafness, which had been shifting from one ear to the other, had now reached both ears, so that I found it necessary to speak above my natural tone to be heard by him. He was troubled, also, with difficulty of breathing, especially in making ascents, and told me that he had been sensible, for some time, of shortness of breath, in going up hill, to an unusual degree. It was evident to him that the "harp of thousand strings" was no longer "in tune." "But I cannot complain now," said he to me, "if some of the chords should be breaking." That morning, for the first time in about a month, he had taken pen in hand and written a page on his historical task. December 14th, he had written me that he was "in the vein, and anxious to complete the rough draft of his final volume." [To Mrs. Storrow.] SUNNYSIDE, February 15, 1858. MY DEAR SARAH:Your letter of January 9th came to me like a reproach, making me feel my delinquency in not having answered your previous letter; but I am unavoidably a delinquent on this score, my weary brain being overtasked by my literary undertakings, and unable to cope with the additional claims of an overwhelming correspondence. I am endeavoring to accomplish a fifth volume, wherewith to close the 'Life of Washington," but I work more slowly than heretofore. For two or three years past I have been troubled by an obstinate catarrh, but this winter it has been quite harassing, at times quite stupefying me. Recently I have put myself under medical treatment, and begin to feel the benefit of it. Mr. Storrow must have brought you lamentable accounts of the state of affairs in this country during the late revulsion. He was here in the height of the storm, when we seemed to be threatened with an almost universal shipwreck. Happily, the crisis is past; things are returning to order, but it will take some time for business to regain its usual activity. Fortunately, I have experienced but a very moderate loss in my investments, and my relations with my publisher have been placed on a different footing, which, I trust, will prove advantageous to us both. .. I have never been more struck with the energy and elasticity of the national character than in observing how spiritedly it has struggled with this overwhelming calamity, and is exerting itself, amid the ruins of past |