No I don't think it of any use, your trying to keep * * * and me friends. But don't let that interfere with your regard for him if you have it. We are not required to share one another's feelings in such matters. I should not expect you to like my friends nor hate my enemies if they seemed to you different from what they seem to me; nor would I necessarily follow _your_ lead. For example, I loathe your friend * * * and expect his safe return because the ocean will refuse to swallow him. * * * * * I congratulate you on the Gilder acceptance of your sonnet, and on publication of the "Tasso to Leonora." I don't think it your best work by much--don't think any of your blank verse as good as most of your rhyme--but it's not a thing to need apology. Certainly, I shall be pleased to see Hopper. Give me his address, and when I go to New York--this month or the next--I'll look him up. I think well of Hopper and trust that he will not turn out to be an 'ist of some kind, as most writers and artists do. That is because they are good feelers and poor thinkers. It is the emotional element in them, not the logical, that makes them writers and artists. They have, as a rule, sensibility and no sense. Except the _big_ fellows. * * * * * Neale has in hand already three volumes of the "Collected Works," and will have two more in about a month; and all (I hope) this year. I'm revising all the stuff and cutting it about a good deal, taking from one book stuff for another, and so forth. If Neale gets enough subscriptions he will put out all the ten volumes next year; if not I shall probably not be "here" to see the final one issued. * * * * * Glad you think better of my part in the Hunter-Hillquit "symposium." _I_ think I did very well considering, first, that I didn't care a damn about the matter; second, that I knew nothing of the men I was to meet, nor what we were to talk about, whereas they came cocked and primed for the fray; and, third, that the whole scheme was to make a Socialist holiday at my expense. Of all 'ists the Socialist is perhaps the damnedest fool for (in this country) he is merely the cat that pulls chestnuts from the fire for the Anarchist. His part of the business is to talk away the country's attention while the Anarchist places the bomb. In some countries Socialism is clean, but not in this. And everywhere the Socialist is a dreamer and futilitarian. But I guess I'll call a halt on this letter, the product of an idle hour in garrulous old age. * * * * * Sincerely yours, AMBROSE BIERCE. [The Army and Navy Club, Washington, D. C., August 7, 1908.] MY DEAR MR. CAHILL,