22 April.—­Last evening came true the promised account drawn up by Munroe’s clerk, Chapman.  I have studied it with more zeal than success.  An account seems an ingenious way of burying facts:  it asks wit equal to his who hid them to find them.  I am far as yet from being master of this statement, yet, as I have promised it so long, I will send it now, and study a copy of it at my leisure.  It is intended to begin where the last account I sent you, viz. of French Revolution, ended, with a balance of $9.53 in your favor....  I send you also a paper which Munroe drew up a long time ago by way of satisfying me that, so far as the first and second volumes [of the Miscellanies] were concerned, the result had accorded with the promise that you should have $1,000 profit from the edition.  We prosper marvelously on paper, but the realized benefit loiters.  Will you now set some friend of yours in Fraser’s shop at work on this paper, and see if this statement is true and transparent.  I trust the Munroe firm,—­ chiefly Nichols, the clerical partner,—­and yet it is a duty to understand one’s own affair.  When I ask, at each six months’ reckoning, why we should always be in debt to them, they still remind me of new and newer printing, and promise correspondent profits at last.  By sending you this account I make it entirely an affair between you and them.  You will have all the facts which any of us know.  I am only concerned as having advanced the sums which are charged in the account for the payment of paper and printing, and which promise to liquidate themselves soon, for Munroe declares he shall have $550 to pay me in a few days.  For the benefit of all parties bid your clerk sift them.  One word more and I have done with this matter, which shall not be weary if it comes to good,—­the account of the London five hundred French Revolution is not yet six months old, and so does not come in.  Neither does that of the second edition of the first and second volumes of the Miscellanies, for the same reason.  They will come in due time.  I have very good hope that my friend Margaret Fuller’s Journal—­after many false baptisms now saying it will be called The Dial, and which is to appear in July—­ will give you a better knowledge of our young people than any you have had.  I will see that it goes to you when the sun first shines on its face.  You asked me if I read German, and I forget if I have answered.  I have contrived to read almost every volume of Goethe, and I have fifty-five, but I have read nothing else:  but I have not now looked even into Goethe for a long time.  There is no great need that I should discourse to you on books, least of all on his books; but in a lecture on Literature, in my course last winter, I blurted all my nonsense on that subject, and who knows but Margaret Fuller may be glad to print it and send it to you?  I know not.