Wlliam Gilmore Simms
The Simms Review (Vol 16: No 1) >> Simms as ''Nemo'': The Rediscovered Letters to the Charleston Mercury >> Page 10 / Our New York Correspondence (2 October 1860)

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Page 10 / Our New York Correspondence (2 October 1860)

Correspondence | 1860-10-02
Transcription the pressure of continued and exhausting disease. And the narrative is the
more touching as we discover the cheerful, elastic spirit with which the poor
author endured his sufferings, jesting with his own griefs, and trying to
extract some food of merriment from his own hourly pains. How he punned
upon his pains! How he jibes at his misfortunes ! How he sang, while the big
tear was oozing from his eyes; and smiled back to a weeping wife, amid his
death-bed agonies! And there, as tail-pieces to his chapters, are his queer
drawings, in which he shows up nature in her grotesques, with a German
felicity of touch; and contrives, in whatever he draws, to exhibit the latent
absurdity the ludicrous, in its aspect, as if the toil were really to divert his
thought, the while, from the terribly serious in his own daily experience.
There is an engraving, preceding the volumes, exhibiting the monument
which has been raised to his memory. It is described as a fine design, but the
engraving does not convey this idea. The work is issued in the excellent style
of TICKNOR & FIELD'S publications, and you, no doubt, my dear MERCURY,
have received your copy of this and the preceding work, from one or other of
your local book-sellers, Messrs. RUSSELL & JONES, or COURTENAY. If so,
please accept my counsel to yield them a few hours of the night, that you
may be diverted, for a few brief hours in the twenty-four, from the pain of
politics. NEMO.

Charleston Mercufy, 2 October 1860

Our New York Correspondence

NEW YORK, September 28.
To those, my dear MERCURY, who desire to procure a fresh and charming
body of Irish literature, such as if; but little known in this country, and such
as we never receive any report from English or Scottish periodicals, we
commend them to a series of publications from the press of P. M. HAVERTY,
of New York. Mr. HAVERTY is rather an obscure publisher, taking no rank
with those lordly publishing houses, the APPLETONS, the HARPERS, the
DERBYS & JACKSON, who dwell in great places of Gotham, and feed on the
brains of authors, foreign and domestic, even as the maggot is said to feed on
the brains of the elk. Mr. HAVERTY'S shop is a mere cellar in an obscure
street, and, in addition to his cellar, which is large and full of books, he has
several vast bookcases or shelves, occupying a permanent place on the
sidewalks, on both sides of the street, near his cellar. He is, besides being a
publisher, a collector of old books; and persons who seek for rare and
curious volumes collections for libraries and who fail to find what they
desire in grand, new and gaudy establishments, may be frequently much