to William Dean Howells
16 April 1882 • Hartford, Conn. (MS: MH-H, UCCL 02200)
O dear! I came home jubilant, thinking that for once I had gone through a two-day trip & come out without a crime on my soul: but it was all a delusion, nothing but a delusion——as I soon found out as I glided along in my narrative of how Aldrich———but no, I have suffered enough already, through Mrs. Clemens’s measureless scorn & almost measureless vituperation. I Ⓐemendation There has been administered to me punishment enough for ten crimes; & I have punished myself enough for fifty, just in tossing, in impotent regret & humiliation, over one shameful detail after another, pointed out by Mrs. Clemens; & which cause me just as real anguish as if I could see, myself, that they were brutalities & stupidities & crimes, & how they are & why they are; & they & it makes me wish, in the bottom of my broken heart, that this might be a lesson to me; & so burnt in & comprehended, that I could depend on going right back there tomorrow & not only not duplicate the whole performance, but not get up another one, by inspiration, a thundering sight worse.——But oh, hell, there is no hope for a person who is built like me;——because there is no cure, no cure. If I could only know when I have committed a crime: then I could conceal it, & not go stupidly dribbling it out, circumstance by circumstance, into the ears of a person who will give no sign till the cir confession is complete; & then the sudden damnation drops on a body like the released pile-driver, & he finds himself in the earth up down to his chin. When he merely supposed he was being entertaining.
But thanks be to God, there is one detail of the two or three words canceled miserable chapter that I didn’t tell her—because she dropped on me too soon & didn’t give me a chance. And that is why my chin is still above ground. When the day comes that When I add that detail to her information, it will be because my wounds are not brisk enough for my requirements, & seem to need some turpentine in them.
Good by. Send a line, addressed to “S. L. Samuel, Southern Hotel, St Louis, Mo.,” to say that you & Mrs. Howells & Winnie can endure a knave but can’t stand a fool; & then you will feel as I do about it. And Mrs. Clemens.
P. S.
Dear Mr Howells
In spite of the apparent flippancy of Mr. Clemens note he is in earnest, and last night was so troubled by what he feared (he was not quite certain) was a discourtesy toward you, that he said if he was not starting for the South tomorrow, he would go to Boston and make his apologies to you.
Although he represents me as abusing him so terribly, I think he feels that it was entirely deserved—and that a guilty conscience added to the bitterness of his sufferings.
I was very sorry that you and Mrs Howells could not come down for last Sunday as we wanted so much to have Miss Spaulding see you both. I hope we may have you all here at some not far distant time.
With cordial greeting to Mrs Howells and hoping that you will forgive Mr Clemens I am very sincerely yours
MS, MH-H (shelf mark bMS Am 1784 [98]).
MTHL, 1:400–402.
See Howells Letters in Description of Provenanceclick to open link.