― [page break] ―NY. No: 45, Pine Street. Mar: 19. 1799
I received thy letter, thy last letter, my friend though this acknowledgement is somewhat tardy
& at this time, imagined that such letters were cheaply purchased at ten times the labour whey to answer thine
would cost me. Yet the answer has thus long been delayed. Seldom a day has passed without the wish to hear
from thee, though I was conscious that my answering what thou hast already written was necessary to secure
that gratification.
I scarcely know by what nice concurrence of contingincies I am now prompted to assure
thee, under my own hand, of my welfare & my affectionate remembrance. The sun is hastening to set
& an hours leisure from any task if afforded me. This hour I devote to thee.
I have lately remiss in my diligence of composition. I have been wavering among various
schemes, & fixed upon none. Thou wilt perhaps smile at the capriciousness & flexibility of my temper
when I tell thee, that I have fivesix works, besides there
there miswritten for three published, in which have made no inconsiderable
but unequal progress.
The publisher of Mervyn is willing to proceed, on the same terms, in the same track
& I am desirous of supplying him with matter. I beleave I have concluded on the choice to be made
&, in the usual spirit of procrastination, have said to myself, tomorrow. I will set about the conti=
nuiation of Stephen Calvert. During the remnant of this day I will unbend in letter writing
& to whom with so much propriety as Joseph Bringhurst?~~~~
I should be well pleased to light at thy door, enter & greet thee, as thou standst behind thy
counter. I can preconceive the thousand topics which would be discussed as such an interview. Among these
the most early & momentous would doubtless be the respective situations, opinions & schemes of each.
This interview cannot happen; these topics cannot be discussed, face to face, familiarly, alternatively, & copious
=ly. Letters were designed as substitutes for such interviews, but they are extremely inadequate. Faint skeletons
only can these convey.
Thou hast probably had lately in thy hand somewhat that may serve the most
valuable purposes of a letter. It will inform thee what has been the regular employment of some
weeks of my life. It will afford a criterion of my powers & my principles. It will attest the nature &
limits of my knowledge. Having perused this proepistle it will be incumbent on my friend to answer
it. To afford me similar intelligence respecting his employments, powers & opinions, & inform me what
judgement he has passed upon this fruit of my industry, this evidence of my existance, this code
of my opinions, this test of my abilities. Is Arthur a being who deserves to be known: Is he likely to
be known. What are likely to be the extent of his acquaintance, the number of his friends &, the duration
or warmth of their attachment? Wilt thou tell me?
I am not as thou wilt think, excluded from the world or men or of books. With the latter
however, I have little intercourse, & if my occupations were strictly regulated by previous intentions, I should
― [page break] ―
scarcely open a book in a month. Those hours which are not employed in repairing the decays of nature, in talk–
=ing with my friends, & in sleep, should be unremitedly devoted to the quill. As some men, attend to
their mercantile desk, or their compter with the same regularity with which they eat & sleep, & consume scores
of years, in this attendance; so do I desire to devote myself to the thought=transmitting process. Some
path of regular & lucrative industry is enjoined by necessity on the greater part of mankind; To be
exempt from this necessity is blissful. To be subjected to it, since it is the lot of so many, is no topic of
complaint. Happy those to whom it is granted to pursue the benefit of mankind, the gratification of
their fancy & ambition, by the same means as their condition exact from them as their methods of
subsistence. To whom it is allowed to combine the interests of curiosity, benevolence, & subsistence.
Thou wilt ask if such, in my own opinion, be my condition.
I scarcely know how to answer thee. Perhaps this inestimable privilege is mine. I am
one of these most fortunate of mankind. Then I am unx happy. No. Happiness is not the consequence
Thou art tolerably happy. Happier than many of thy neighbours.
I beleave I am. Writing is my art & my trade. This pen is my tool wherewith I hew out
the means of my subsistence & my pleasure. Like other tools, the longer & more sedulously we employ
it, the greater celerity, facility & excellence are we likely to attain in our workmanship. That which was first
arduous becomes easy; what was slow become rapid; what was reluctance becomes impetuosity; What was
toil becomes pleasure.
Guido Rheni began to paint at the age of thirty
This is not the case; need to find the or an early–modern bio from which B draws this account of Guido's career. Before that age he was variable, capricious
unsettled. He then became sober in his habits & permanent in his abode. The productions of his pencil always
found purchasers. Ths
B writes Ths instead of the or these, apparently having both in mind, etc. gains enabled him to pursue his art without disquiet or molestation. They enabled him
to gather round him all the circumstances favourable to the exertions of his Genius. Nature supplied
him with health.
One fourth of the day, he devoted to his favourite employment. To paint in one manner, to adhere to
the same scale; to introduce a scene uniform with regard to complexity he deemed best because repetition
is the mother of skill.
To exhibit human forms, & visages & passions was a branch of his art more dignified than any
other. These were to be drawn from the stores of fancy or of history. Real or imaginary personages, & interviews
were to occupy the Canvas. These stores were inexhaustable, the first, in its own nature, & the latter,
relative to human powers. The field of history was spacious.
As his time was unalterably distributed, & his works executed with equal degrees of elaborateness
they generally were finished in equal periods. This period was a month. The charms of this employment & this
regularity were so great that he persisted in it for fifty twenty years, & consequently produced two hundred &
forty pieces. Most of these were distinct performances. Many were connected with each other in a series more or
less coherent or compact. This connection sometimes consisted in the circumstances of time; somtimes in that of
place. Somtimes the same person was depicted in different attitudes & situations. Sometimes distinct portions of
― [page break] ―the history of the same transaction or the same nation were exhibited.
These pieces are as immortal as they nature of the art that produced them, will admit, but
the colours must fade & the canvass must perish.
Parallel to the history of Guido is, in many respects, the history of Crito. In the distribution
of his time & the constancy of his imployment & the length of time during which he was imployed;
in the number of his pieces, & of the time employed in the execution of each; he & the immortal
painter are alike. In some respects they differ. Crito paints, not with the pencil, but the pen.
His works are capable by a simple & cheap process, of being endlessly renewed and multiplied. They may
be held in the hand & borne in the pocket. From the nature of the implement employed, Crito’s works
are not single pictures, but galleries, each supplied with so many separate groupes that he who should
survey them in the most rapid succession, could not scrutinize them all in less than a day
They are likewise, in another respect, inexpressibly superior to the creatures of the pencil. They exhi=
bit views, not only to the eye but the understanding. The truths of political & moral science, of most mo=
ment to the happiness of mankind, are deduced & exemplified by him.
Join with me my friend in wishing that Crito may find his exact parallel in C.B.B.~
Present my respects to thy Laura, & receive the affectionate remembrances ofDunlap & Woolsey.~~~~~~
― [page break] ―
Joseph Bringhurst Junr
Merchant
Wilmington
Delaware.
[Bottom left written in B's hand PerPOST; top left circular postal stamp illegible; top right 12 1/2 written by hand in red ink