| | 2 | Author: | unknown | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Studies in bibliography  | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | At the opening panel of the 2001 conference of the Society for
Textual Scholarship, some interesting remarks about copy-text
were delivered by John Unsworth, a member of the Modern
Language Association's Committee on Scholarly Editions
(CSE). Unsworth said that he had originally planned to tell his audience
that "the Greg-Bowers theory of editing" or "copy-text theory" had
once enjoyed "hegemony within the CSE," but no longer did, owing to
challenges from outside the Greg-Bowers school, where the focus was on
other "periods, languages, and editorial circumstances." Unsworth submitted
this thesis to Robert H. Hirst, the chair of the CSE at the time,
for his thoughts, and reported receiving the following reply: | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 3 | Author: | Bruce
William Cabell
1860-1946 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | John Randolph of Roanoke, 1773-1833 | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | When Randolph reached Richmond on his return from
Russia to Roanoke, he was so ill that he had to take to his
bed; and to bed or room he was confined until a day or so
before the first Monday in November, when he found
himself strong enough to proceed to Charlotte Court
House and to address the people there on that day. On
the second Monday of November, he addressed the people
of Buckingham County, and on the third Monday of
November the people of Prince Edward County; and he
was prevented by rain only from addressing the people of
Cumberland County on the fourth Monday of November.1
1Nov. 27, 1831, Jackson Papers, v. 79, Libr. Cong.
"1. Resolved, that, while we retain a grateful sense of the
many services rendered by Andrew Jackson, Esq., to the
United States, we owe it to our country and to our posterity
to make our solemn protest against many of the doctrines of
his late proclamation. Just as I mounted my horse on
Monday morning at Washington, your truly welcome and
friendly letter was put into my hands. I arrived here this
evening a little before sunset, after a ride on horseback of
thirty-five miles. Pretty well, you'll say, for a man whose
lungs are bleeding, and with a `church-yard cough,' which
gives so much pleasure to some of your New York editors of
newspapers. . . . I am never so easy as when in the saddle.
Nevertheless, if `a gentleman' (we are all gentlemen now-a-days)
who received upwards of £300 sterling for me merely to hand
it over, had not embezzled it by applying it to his own purposes,
I should be a passenger with you on the eighth. I tried
to raise the money by the sale of some property, that only
twelve months ago I was teased to part from (lots and houses
in Farmville, seventy miles above Petersburgh, on Appomattox
river), but could not last week get a bid for it. Such is the
poverty, abject poverty and distress of this whole country. I
have known land (part of it good and wood land) sell for one
dollar an acre, that, ten years ago, would have commanded
ten dollars, and last year five or six. Four fine negroes sold
for three hundred and fifty dollars, and so in proportion. But
I must quit the wretched subject. My pay, as a member of
Congress, is worth more than my best and most productive
plantation, for which, a few years ago, I could have got eighty
thousand dollars, exclusive of slaves and stock. I gave, a few
years since, twenty-seven thousand dollars for an estate. It
had not a house or a fence upon it. After putting it in fine
order, I found that, so far from my making one per cent, or
one-half or one-fourth of one per cent, it does not clear expenses
by about seven hundred and fifty dollars per annum, over and
above all the crops. Yet, I am to be taxed for the benefit of
wool-spinners, &c., to destroy the whole navigating interest
of the United States; and we find representatives from New-Bedford,
and Cape Ann, and Marblehead, and Salem, and
Newburyport, voting for this, if they can throw the molasses
overboard to lighten the ship Tariff. She is a pirate under a
black flag."1
1The New Mirror, v. 2, 71, Nov. 4, 1843.
"I do not remember in any `letters from the South' a description
of a Virginia court-day, and, as I know of nothing which
exhibits in more lively colours the distinctive traits of the
State character, I will employ a little time in sketching a scene
of this kind, which presented itself on Monday, the 2d of
April. The court of Charlotte Co. is regularly held upon
the first Monday of every month, and there is usually a large
concourse of people. This was an occasion of peculiar interest,
as elections for Congress and the State Legislature were
then to take place. As the day was fine, I preferred walking,
to the risk of having my horse alarmed, and driven away by the
hurly-burly of such an assemblage. In making my way along
the great road, which leads from my lodgings to the place of
public resort, I found it all alive with the cavalcades of planters
and country-folk going to the raree show. A stranger would
be forcibly struck with the perfect familiarity with which
all ranks were mingling in conversation, as they moved along
upon their fine pacing horses. Indeed, this sort of equality
exists to a greater degree here than in any country with
which I am acquainted. Here were young men, whose main
object seemed to be the exhibition of their spirited horses,
of the true race breed, and their equestrian skill. The great
majority of persons were dressed in domestic, undyed cloth,
partly from economy, and partly from a State pride, which
leads many of our most wealthy men, in opposing the tariff, to
reject all manufactures which are protected by the Government.
A man would form a very incorrect estimate of the worldly
circumstances of a Virginia planter who should measure his
finances by the fineness of his coat. When I came near to the
village, I observed hundreds of horses tied to the trees of a
neighbouring grove, and further on could descry an immense
and noisy multitude covering the space around the courthouse.
In one quarter, near the taverns, were collected the
mob, whose chief errand is to drink and quarrel. In another,
was exhibited a fair of all kinds of vendibles, stalls of mechanics
and tradesmen, eatables and drinkables, with a long line of
Yankee wagons, which are never wanting on these occasions.
The loud cries of salesmen, vending wares at public auction,
were mingled with the vociferation of a stump orator, who, in
the midst of a countless crowd, was advancing his claims as a
candidate for the House of Delegates. I threaded my way
into this living mass, for the purpose of hearing the oration. A
grey-headed man was discoursing upon the necessity of amending
the State Constitution, and defending the propriety of
calling a convention. His elocution was good, and his arguments
very plausible, especially when he dwelt upon the very
unequal representation in Virginia. This, however, happens
to be the unpopular side of the question in our region and the
populace, while they respected the age and talents of the man
showed but faint signs of acquiescence. The candidate, upon
retiring from the platform on which he had stood, was followed
by a rival, who is well known as his standing opponent.
The latter kept the people in a roar of laughter by a kind of
dry humour which is peculiar to himself. Although far inferior
to the other in abilities and learning, he excels him in all those
qualities which go to form the character of a demagogue. He
appealed to the interests of the planters and slave owners, he
turned into ridicule all the arguments of the former speaker,
and seemed to make his way to the hearts of the people. He
was succeeded by the candidate for the Senate, Henry A.
Watkins, of Prince Edward, a man of great address and
suavity of manner; his speech was short but pungent and
efficient, and, although he lost his election, he left a most
favourable impression upon the public mind. We had still
another address from one of the late delegates who proposed
himself again as a candidate. Before commencing his oration,
he announced to the people that, by a letter from Mr. Randolph,
he was informed that we should not have the pleasure of seeing
that gentleman, as he was confined to his bed by severe illness.
This was a sore disappointment. It was generally expected
that Mr. R. would have been present, and I had cherished the
hope of hearing him once in my life. It would give you no
satisfaction for me to recount to you the several topics of party
politics upon which the several speakers dilated. We
proceeded (or rather as many as could, proceeded) to the courthouse,
where the polls were opened. The candidates, six in
number, were ranged upon the Justices' bench, the clerks were
seated below, and the election began, viva voce. The throng and
confusion were great, and the result was that Mr. Randolph
was unanimously elected for Congress, Col. Wyatt for the
Senate, and the two former members to the Legislature of the
State. After the election, sundry petty squabbles took place
among the persons who had been opposing one another in the
contest. Towards night, a scene of unspeakable riot took place;
drinking and fighting drove away all thought of politics and many
a man was put to bed disabled by wounds and drunkenness.
This part of Virginia has long been celebrated for its breed of
horses. There is scrupulous attention paid to the preservation
of the immaculate English blood. Among the crowd on
this day, were snorting and rearing fourteen or fifteen stallions,
some of which were indeed fine specimens of that noble creature.
Among the rest, Mr. Randolph's celebrated English horse,
Roanoke, who is nine years old, and has never been `backed.'
That which principally contributes to this great collection of
people on our court days is the fact that all public business and
all private contracts are settled at this time. All notes are made
payable on these days, &c., &c. But you must be tired with
Charlotte Court; I am sure that I am."1
1Mar. 13, 1827, 40 Yrs.' Familiar Letters, v. 1, 98.
When, at my departure from Morrisania, in your sister's
presence, I bade you remember the past, I was not apprised of
the whole extent of your guilty machinations. I had nevertheless
seen and heard enough in the course of my short visit
to satisfy me that your own dear experience had availed
nothing toward the amendment of your life. My object was
to let you know that the eye of man as well as of that God, of
whom you seek not, was upon you—to impress upon your mind
some of your duty towards your husband, and, if possible, to
rouse some dormant spark of virtue, if haply any such should
slumber in your bosom. The conscience of the most hardened
criminal has, by a sudden stroke, been alarmed into repentance
and contrition. Yours, I perceive, is not made of penetrable
stuff. Unhappy woman, why will you tempt the forbearance
of that Maker who has, perhaps, permitted you to run your
course of vice and sin that you might feel it to be a life of
wretchedness, alarm and suspicion? You now live in the daily
and nightly dread of discovery. Detection itself can hardly be
worse. Some of the proofs of your guilt, (you know to which
of them I allude); those which in despair you sent me through
Dr. Meade on your leaving Virginia; those proofs, I say, had
not been produced against you had you not falsely used my
name in imposing upon the generous man to whose arms you
have brought pollution! to whom next to my unfortunate
brother you were most indebted, and whom next to him you
have most deeply injured. You told Mr. Morris that I had
offered you marriage subsequent to your arraignment for the
most horrible of crimes, when you were conscious that I never
at any time made such proposals. You have, therefore,
released me from any implied obligation, (with me it would
have been sacred; notwithstanding you laid no injunction of
the sort upon me, provided you had respected my name and
decently discharged your duties to your husband) to withhold
the papers from the inspection of all except my own family. "My husband yesterday communicated to me for the first
time your letter of the last of October, together with that
which accompanied it, directed to him. "This is possibly the last letter that you shall receive from me
until I am liberated from my prison-house. Nine hours quill
driving per day is too much. I give up all my correspondents
for a time, even your Uncle Henry. I must not kill myself
outright. Business, important business, now demands every
faculty of my soul and body. If I fail, if I perish, I shall have
fallen in a noble cause—not the cause of my country only but a
dearer one even than that—the cause of my friend and colleague
[Tazewell]. Had he been here, I should never have
suffered and done what I have done and suffered for his sake;
and what I would not undergo again for anything short of the
Kingdom of Heaven. You mistake my character altogether.
I am not ambitious; I have no thirst for power. That is
ambition. Or for the fame that newspapers etc. can confer.
There is nothing worldly worth having (save a real friend and
that I have had) but the love of an amiable and sensible woman;
one who loves with heart and not with her head out of
romances and plays. That I once had. It is gone never to
return, and it changed and became—my God! To what vile
uses do we come at last! I now refer you to the scene in
Shakespeare, first part of Henry IV at Warworth Castle, where
Lady Percy comes in upon Hotspur who had been reading the
letter of his candid friend. Read the whole of it from the
soliloquy to the end of it. `This (I borrow his words) is no
world to play with mammets and to tilt with lips.' It is for
fribbles and Narcissus and [illegible], idle worthless drones who
encumber the lap of society, who never did and never will do
anything but admire themselves in a glass, or look at their
own legs; it is for them to skulk when friends and country are
in danger. Hector and Hotspur must take the field and go to
the death. The volcano is burning me up and, as Calanthe
died dancing, so may I die speaking. But my country and my
friends shall never see my back in the field of danger or the
hour of death. Continue to write to me but do not expect an
answer until my engagements of duty are fulfilled."1
1Bryan MSS.
"I write not only because you request it, but because it seems
to fill up a half hour in my tedious day. No life can be more
cheerless than mine. Shall I give you a specimen? One day
serves for all. At daybreak, I take a large tumbler of milk
warm from the cow, after which, but not before, I get a refreshing
nap. I rise as late as possible on system and walk before
breakfast about half a mile. After breakfast, I ride over the
same beaten track and return `too weary for my dinner,' which
I eat without appetite, to pass away the time. Before dark, I
go to bed, after having drunk the best part of a bottle of
Madeira, or the whole of a bottle of Hermitage. Wine is my
chief support. There is no variety in my life; even my morning's
walk is over the same ground; weariness and lassitude are
my portion. I feel deserted by the whole world, and a more
dreary and desolate existence than mine was never known
by man. Even our incomparably fine weather has no effect
upon my spirits."2
2Bryan MSS.
I am glad to learn that you are cheerful
and happy. This used to be the season of gladness and joy.
But times are changed now. I am well aware that I have
changed not less, and that no degree of merriment and festivity
would excite in me the same hilarity that I used to feel. But,
laying that consideration aside, or rather, after making the
most ample allowance for it, I cannot be deceived in the fact
that we are an altered people, and altered in my estimation
sadly for the worse. The very slaves have become almost
forgetful of their Saturnalia. Where now are the rousing
`Christmas Fires' and merry, kind-hearted greetings of the
by-gone times? On this day, it used to be my pride to present
my mother with not less than a dozen partridges for an
ample pie. The young people [became] merry and the old
cheerful. I scratched a few lines to you on Thursday
(I think) or Friday, while lying in my bed. I am now out
of it, and somewhat better; but I still feel the barb rankling in
my side. Whether, or not, it be owing to the debility brought
on by disease, I can't contemplate the present and future
condition of my country without dismay and utter hopelessness.
I trust that I am not one of those who (as was said of a
certain great man) are always of the opinion of the book last
read. But I met with a passage in a review (Edinburgh) of
the works and life of Machiavelli that strikes me with great
force as applicable to the whole country south of Patapsco:
`It is difficult to conceive any situation more painful than that
of a great man condemned to watch the lingering agony of an
exhausted country, to tend it during the alternate fits of
stupefaction and raving which precede its dissolution, to see
the signs of its vitality disappear one by one, till nothing is
left but coldness, darkness, and corruption.' "1
1Washington, Feb. 9, 1829, Garland, v. 2, 317.
"I have been interrupted, and I dare say you wish that it had
been the means of putting an untimely end to this prosing epistle.
As however ours is a weekly post, it gives me leisure to
bore you still further. I have no hesitation (nor would you
either, my friend, if you were brought to the alternative) in
preferring the gentleman's mode of deciding a quarrel to the
blackguard's—and if men must fight (and it seems they will)
there is not, as in our politics, a third alternative. A bully
is as hateful as a Drawcansir: Abolish dueling and you
encourage bullies as well in number as in degree, and lay every
gentleman at the mercy of a cowardly pack of scoundrels. In
fine, my good friend, the Yahoo must be kept down, by
religion, sentiment, manners if you can—but he must be kept
down."1
1Roanoke, June 24, 1811, Nicholson MSS., Libr. Cong.
On taking out my chariot this morning,
for the first time, since I got from your house, to clean it and
the harness (for the dreadful weather has frozen us all up until
today), the knife was found in the bottom of the carriage,
where it must have been dropped from a shallow waist-coat
pocket, as I got in at your door, for I missed the knife soon
afterwards. When I got home, I had the pockets of the
chariot searched, and everything there taken out, and it was
not until John had searched strictly into my portmanteau and
bag, taking out everything therein, that I became perfectly
convinced of what I was before persuaded, that I had left the
knife in my chamber in your house on Tuesday the 6th, and,
when I heard it had not been seen, I took it for granted that
your little yellow boy, having `found it,' had, according to the
negro code of morality, appropriated it to himself. In this, it
seems I was mistaken, and I ask his pardon as the best amends
I can make to him; and, at the same time to relieve you and
Mrs. M. from the unpleasant feeling that such a suspicion would
occasion, I dispatch this note by a special messanger, although
I have a certain conveyance tomorrow. I make no apology to
yourself or to Mrs. M. for the frank expression of my suspicion,
because truth is the Goddess at whose shrine I worship, and no
Huguenot in France, or Morisco in Spain, or Judaizing Christian
in Portugal ever paid more severely for his heretical schism
VOL. II—27
than I have done in leaving the established church of falsehood
and grimace. I am well aware that ladies are as delicate as
they are charming creatures, and that, in our intercourse with
them, we must strain the truth as far as possible. Brought up
from their earliest infancy to disguise their real sentiments
(for a woman would be a monster who did not practice this
disguise) it is their privilege to be insincere, and we should
despise [them] and justly too, if they had that manly frankness
and reserve, which constitutes the ornament of our character,
as the very reverse does of theirs. We must, therefore, keep
this in view in all of our intercourse with them, and recollect
that, as our point of honour is courage and frankness, theirs
is chastity and dissimulation, for, as I said before, a woman
who does not dissemble her real feelings is a monster of
impudence. Now, therefore, it does so happen (as Mr.
Canning would say) that truth is very offensive to the ears of a
lady when to those of a gentleman (her husband for instance)
it would be not at all so. To illustrate—Mrs. Randolph of
Bizarre, my brother's widow, was beyond all comparison the
nicest and best house-wife that I ever saw. Not one drop of
water was suffered to stand upon her sideboard, except what
was in the pitcher, the house from cellar to garret, and in every
part [was] as clean as hands could make it, and everything as it
should be to suit even my fastidious taste. "(The severest attack which I have had for a long time,
obliged me to give over writing yesterday. The distress and
anxiety of the last 18 hours are not to be described.) "The last sentence was not finished until today. I have been
very much distressed by my complaint and, as the Packet,
which will carry this, does not sail until Thursday morning, I
have written by snatches. Saturday, I made out to dine with
the famous `Beef Steaks'; which I had a great desire to do.
The scene was unique. Nothing permitted but Beef Steaks
and potatoes, port wine, punch, brandy and water, &c. The
broadest mirth and most unreserved freedoms among the
members; every thing and every body burlesqued; in short, a
party of school boys on a frolic could not have been more
unrestrained in the expression of their merriment. I was
delighted with the conviviality and heartiness of the company.
Among other toasts, we had that `great friend of Liberty,
Prince Metternich' and a great deal more of admirable foolery.
The company waited chiefly on themselves. The songs,
without exception, were mirth-stirring and well sung. In short,
here I saw a sample of old English manners; for the same tone
has been kept up from the foundation of the club—more than a
century. Nothing could be happier than the burlesque
speeches of some of the officers of the club; especially a Mr.
Stephenson (Vice P.) who answered to the call of `Boots!'
Maj. Gen. Sir Andrew Barnard presided admirably, and
another gallant officer, Gen'l Sir Ronald Ferguson, greatly
contributed to our hilarity also. Admiral Dundas (not of the
Scotch clan) a new Ld of Admiralty, who came in for his full
share of humour and left-handed compliments, paid his full
quota towards the entertainment. In short, I have not
chuckled with laughter before since I left Virginia."1
1Sou. Lit. Mess., Richm., Nov. 1856, 382-385.
As there seems little probability that
change of scene will produce any permanent benefit to my
unhappy child, I would wish to know whether you suppose it
could be any disadvantage to him to have him removed to
Bizarre, where, in a few weeks, I can have a very comfortable
room fitted up for myself. You say that you think the negroes
can restrain St. George sufficiently, and that he shows no disposition
to injure persons or animals. If so, there is no reason
why you should suffer exclusively the melancholy sight which
it is my duty and my inclination to relieve you from. At this
place, he cannot be kept; the vicinity of the highroad; the
tavern opposite, which is now continually visited by strangers,
together with the excessive heat and sun in this house, would
destroy him. In his own little apartment at Bizarre, he could
be very comfortable; it is so well shaded. Oh! had we never
quitted that spot, desolate as it now is! my child would never
have lost his reason! A more guileless, innocent and happy
creature I believe never existed than he, until that fatal calamity
which sent us forth houseless."1
1Farmville, June 28, 1814, Bryan MSS.
Do you love gardening? I hope you do,
for it is an employment eminently suited to a lady. That
most graceful and amiable friend of mine, [Mrs. Dr. John
Brockenbrough] whom you now never mention in your letters,
excels in it, and in all the domestic arts that give its highest
value to the female character. The misfortune of your sex is
that you are brought up to think that love constitutes the
business of life, and, for want of other subjects, your heads run
upon little else. This passion, which is `the business of the idle
man, the amusement of the hero, and the bane of the sovereign,'
occupies too much of your time and thoughts. I never
knew an idle fellow who was not profligate (a rare case to be
sure), that was not the slave of some princess, and, no matter
how often the subject of his adoration was changed by a marriage
with some more fortunate swain, the successor (for there
is no demise of that crown) was quickly invested with the
attributes of her predecessor, and he was dying of love for her
lest he should die of the gapes. To a sorry fellow of this sort a
mistress is as necessary an antidote against ennui as tobacco;
but to return to gardening, I never saw one of those innumerable
and lovely seats in England without wishing for one for
Mrs. B. [Brockenbrough] who would know so well how to
enjoy while she admired it. I beg pardon of the Wilderness a thousand
times. I have no doubt that it is a most respectable desert,
with a charming little oasis inhabited by very good sort of
people, quite different from the wandering Barbarians around
them. To say the truth, I was a little out of temper with the
aforesaid desert because it had subjected me more than
once to disappointment in regard to you. At Fredericksburg,
you seem to be within my reach: but there I can't get at you.
I am too much of a wild man of the woods myself to take upon
me airs over my fellow-savages. And I shall be willing hereafter
to rank your wilderness along with the far-famed forest of
Arden. By the way, this is not saying much for it. I traveled
two weary days' journey through the Ardennes in 1826. Figure
for yourself a forest of beech and alder saplings intersected
by a thousand cart tracks, the soil, if soil it might be called,
strongly resembling the Stafford Hills of Virginia, and where,
instead of spreading oaks or beech, under which I hoped to find
Angelica asleep by a crystal stream, we had much ado to find
a drop of water for our sorry cattle, who painfully drew us
through the ruts of a narrow, hollow way, deeply worn in the
uneven ground, and sheltered from everything but the sun
(In August) by a thicket of brushwood, through which, every
now and then, peeped the sooty figure of a charcoal burner.
I did not expect to meet with Rosalind or Orlando, because I
had corrected a former misapprehension in regard to the scene
of that enchanting drama. Shakespeare, it seems, so say the
critics, had in his eye the forest of Arden in his native Warwickshire,
and a delightful forest it would be, if there were fewer
towns and villages and more trees. As it is, however, it is
what is called in England a woody tract, and the woodmen of
Arden meet there annually, and contend for prizes in archery
(a silver arrow or bugle); excited by the smiles of all the `Beauty
and Fashion' of the neighboring country. My late apparent rashness, I am overjoyed
to see, has not wounded you. That it has made you
uneasy, I regret, but why was I so moved; because I love you
more than worlds. I am the man in the book with one little
ewe lamb: but I am not the man tamely to see the wolf carry it
away. I will resist even unto blood. My fate was in your
hands. When you come to know my history, you will see what
it is that makes me what the world would call desperate.
Desperation is the fruit of guilt, of remorse. It is for the
unjust. It is for the wretched who had rather steal than work.
It is for the Harrels (see Cecilia) who prefer hell at home and
in their own bosoms to the foregoing of dress, and shew, and
parties, and an equipage, when their fortune will not afford a
wheelbarrow."2
2Mar. 30, 1828, Bryan MSS.
When I got home from Richmond,
a fortnight ago, Dr. Dudley informed me that he had, that
very morning, sent letters for me to that place by my wagon—
`one from Rutledge.' (I come a different road until within a
few miles of my own house.) At length, `the heavy rolling
wain' has returned—a safer, and ofttimes a swifter, conveyance
than the Post—and I have the pleasure to read your letter
written on my birthday. I hope you will always celebrate
it in the same way, and, as probably you never knew that
important fact, or have forgotten it, I must inform you that it
falls just two days before that of our sometime king, on the
anniversary of whose nativity you tell me you had proposed to
set out, or, as it is more elegantly expressed in our Doric idiom,
`to start' for the good old thirteen United States. I am too
unwell and too much fatigued to say much more than to
VOL. II.—35
express my disappointment at not seeing you on your Atlantic
Pilgrimage. I knew that I did not lie in your route, and, altho'
I had no right to expect such a deflection from your line of
march, yet, somehow or other, joining an expression of one
of your letters and my own wishes together, I made up a sort of
not very confident hope of seeing you in my solitary cabin—
`bag [and] baggage' as you say. I acknowledge that my construction
of your language was strained, but, when once we
have set our hearts upon anything, `trifles light as air' serve our
purpose as well as `holy writ.' And so you have been given
back like another Orpheus by the infernal regions—but without
leaving your Eurydice behind you. I suspect you cast no
`longing, lingering look behind.' Pray tell me whether your
Ixions of the West (whom I take to be true `crackers') stopped
their wheels, as you passed; or Tantalus forgot his thirst, and
put by the untasted whiskey. Since you left us, I have been deeply
engaged in what you advised. I have reviewed the Roman
and Grecian history; I have done more; I have reviewed my
own. Believe me, Jack, that I am less calculated for society
than almost any man in existence. I am not perhaps a vain
fool, but I have too much vanity, and I am too susceptible
of flattery. I have that fluency which will attract attention
and receive applause from an unthinking multitude. Content
with my superiority, I should be too indolent to acquire real,
useful knowledge. I am stimulated by gratitude, by friendship
and by love to make exertions now. I feel confident that you
will view my foibles with a lenient eye; that you will see me
prosper and in my progress be delighted."1
1Garland, v. 1, 73.
I am not ceremonious. I feel a conviction
that your silence does not proceed from a want of regard, but
from a cause more important to the world, to yourself, and, if
possible, more distressing to me than the loss of that place in
your heart, on which depends my future prosperity. I had
fondly hoped that the change of scene, and the novelty of
business, would have dissipated that melancholy which overhung
you. To see my friend return happy and well, was the
only wish of my heart. "What are my emotions, dearest brother, at seeing your
horse thus far on his way to return you among us! How
eagerly do I await the appointed day! Ryland [Randolph]
has returned, and another of the children of misfortune will
seek refuge and consolation under this hospitable roof. He
has promised me by letter to be with us in a day or two. What
pleasure do I anticipate in the society of our incomparable
sister, in yours, in Ryland's! I wish I had the vanity to
suppose I was worthy of it. "Your letter was `right welcome unto me,' as my favorite
old English writers say or sing, but much more welcome was
the bearer of it. Son of yours, even with far less claims from
his own merit than this gentleman obviously possesses, shall
never be shown the `cauld shoulther.' I hope that you'll
pardon my using the Waverley tongue, which I must fear bodes
no good to the good old English aforesaid, and which I shall
therefore leave to them that like it,—which I do not, out of
its place,—and not always there. In short, I have not catched
the literary `Scotch fiddle,' and, in despite of Dr. Blair, do
continue to believe that Swift and Addison understood their
own mother tongue as well as any Sawney, `benorth tha'
Tweed.' Nay, further, not having the fear of the Edinburgh
Reviewers before my eyes, I do not esteem Sir Walter to be a
poet, or the Rev. Dr. Chalmers a pulpit orator. But, as I do
not admire Mr. Kean, I fear that my reputation for taste
is, like my earthly tabernacle, in a hopeless state. "If my memory does not deceive me," Randolph said, "you
made me a sort of promise last winter to give Mr. Wood a
sitting for me. Will you pardon the reminding you of this
engagement by one who is too sensible of the kindness he received
from you not to wish for a memorial of him by whom it
was shown. Your portrait will make a most suitable companion
for that of the Chief Justice, who was good enough to sit
for me; and I mention this to show you that you will not be in
company that should disgrace you. This is no common-place address, for
without profession or pretension such you have quietly and
modestly proved yourself to be, while, like Darius, I have been "As well as very bad implements and worse eyes will permit
me to do it by candlelight, I will endeavor to make some return
to your kind letter, which I received, not by Quashee, but the
mail. I also got a short note by him, for which I thank you.
. . . And now, my dear friend, one word in your ear—in
the porches of thine ear. With Archimedes, I may cry Eureka.
Why, what have you found—the philosopher's stone? No—
something better than that. Gyges' ring? No. A substitute
for bank paper? No. The elixir vitœ, then? It is; but it is
the elixir of eternal life. It is that peace of God which passeth
all understanding, and which is no more to be conceived of by
the material heart than poor St. George can be made to feel and
taste the difference between the Italian and German music.
It is a miracle, of which the person, upon whom it is wrought,
alone is conscious—as he is conscious of any other feeling—e.g.
whether the friendship he professes for A or B be a real sentiment
of his heart, or simulated to serve a turn. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 4 | Author: | Woods
Edgar | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Albemarle County in Virginia | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | The settlement of Virginia was a slow and gradual process.
Plantations were for the most part opened on the
water courses, extending along the banks of the James, and
on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay and its tributaries.
It was more than a century after the landing at Jamestown
before white men made the passage of the Blue Ridge. As
soon as that event was noised abroad, it was speedily followed
up, and in the space of the next twenty years the tide
of population had touched the interior portions of the colony,
one stream pushing westward from the sea coast, and
another rolling up the Shenandoah Valley from the wilds of
Pennsylvania. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 6 | Author: | Charlottesville (Va.) | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Charter, ordinances and by-laws of the town of Charlottesville, Va. | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Sec. 1. Be it enacted by the general assembly of Virginia, That so much of
the land as lies and is contained within the following boundary: Beginning at
a stone on the north side of Alexander Garrett's lane, thence with said lane
south sixty-nine and one-half degrees east, fourteen, twenty-eight poles to the
west side of Merewether's mill road; thence with said road north thirty degrees
east twenty-one, twenty poles; thence crossing said road south sixty-seven
and one-half degrees east, thirty-four, forty poles to a fence between James
Minor and A. J. Farish; thence north thirty-one and one-half degrees east, fifteen,
forty-four poles to the Chesapeake and Ohio railroad; thence with said
road south eighty degrees east seventeen, twenty eight poles; thence north
fourteen degrees east, about eighteen, forty-four poles to the entrance of Goodman's
lane, on the south side of the turnpike; thence along the south margin
of said turnpike south sixty-one and three-fourths degrees east, eighty-two and
one-third poles to a point opposite the southwest corner of Thomas L. Farish's
lawn; thence crossing the turnpike road and following the fence of said lawn
north twenty-eight and one-half degrees east, thirty-six poles to a white oak
ree opposite said Farish's house; thence north thirty-one and one-fourth degrees
east, twenty-five to a point near the northwest corner of the said Farish's
garden: thence in a line parallel to the east line of the Institute lot, and
running north twenty-four and one half degrees east, fifty and one half poles,
crossing the free bridge road, to a point on the north side of said road; thence
following the north margin said road south eighty-five degrees west, ninety-six
and one fourth poles to a point opposite the northeast corner of the Anderson
lot, in the present corporation line; thence with said line north ten and one
fourth degrees west to the corner of the graveyard wall, next to the old brickyard;
thence in the direction of a poplar tree in the corner of the old brick-yard
lot north twenty one and one fourth degrees east, twenty-six twenty poles to a
stone set in a field; thence crossing the old brick-yard, and with the south side
of the street leading to Park street, north seventy-four degrees west, forty-eight,
sixty-four poles to a stake corner to Shelton F. Leake's; thence north seventy-three
degrees west, eighty-four forty-four poles to a stone in Mrs. Gilmer's field;
thence south thirty-six and one fourth degrees west to a stone in the field, thirty-five,
fifty-six poles; thence south twenty-eight degrees west to a stone in B.
C. Flannagan's field forty-eight, sixty-four poles; thence south eighty-three degrees
west, fifty-six poles to Verinda West's corner; thence up the road south
seventeen degrees west thirteen, twelve poles; thence north seventy degrees
west, twenty-five poles to a stone set in a field at the back of Mrs. Digg's lot;
thence south twenty degrees west, twenty-eight, eighty poles to a locust tree in
Mrs. Reyburn's; thence with the same course sixteen poles to a stake in James
M. Hodge's lot, near the house; thence south sixty-nine and one half degrees
east, twenty-two, twenty poles to Minerva Kenney's, to a stake in the fence near
the kitchen; thence north thirty degrees east, six, twenty-eight poles to Alexander
Garrett's lane by the railroad; thence with the said line when completed,
south sixty-nine and one half degrees east, one hundred and thirty-eight, seventy-six
poles to the beginning (being nearly the same limits as are prescribed in
section one of an act passed fourteenth March, eighteen hundred and sixty, entitled
an act to amend the charter and extend the corporate limits of the town
of Charlottesville) shall be and is hereby made a town corporate, by the name
and style of the Town of Charlottesville; and by that name shall sue and be
sued, and shall have and exercise all the powers and be subject to all the provisions
of the Code of Virginia, except so far as may be herein otherwise provided. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 7 | Author: | Bruce
William Cabell
1860-1946 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | John Randolph of Roanoke, 1773-1833 | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | "I thank you for your good advice in your letter to Mamma,
but I am such a perverse boy that I wish I had a tutor to make
me mind my book as I cannot help wishing to play when it is
time to read. I want to learn everything, but I cannot love
confinement; and what is worse, the more I play the more I
want to play; but I am sure when I go regularly to school I
shall not be behind my brothers. Brother Hal is much cleverer
than sister for his age though she is much improved in talking
and walking. We are all wanting to see you; I was never so
rejoiced as when we got your letter to leave Roanoke. I am
my dear papa yr. dutyfull son "I take this oppty of letting you know that we are all well
and that I missed my ague at Roanoke. Mama and Mrs.
Hartston hung up Abracadabra as a charm for that and to keep
away the enemy. Sister is worth a dozen of what she was when
you left her. She says anything and runs about all day. I
hope you are in favour with the Marquis. I don't doubt it,
for I think you a very fine officer and will be able to make the
militia fight, for if they do not now I don't think they ever will
be collected after running away. Brother Dicky has turned
me back from the optitive of amo to the potential mood of
audio because Mr. Hearn never taught me. I thank you my
dr papa for telling me in your letter to be a good boy and mind
my book. I do love my book and mind it as much as I can
myself, but we want a tutor very much. I hope in a month I
shall be passing my Concords. I will try all I can to be a good
boy and a favourite of Mama's and when you come home I
hope I shall be one of yours. "You have doubtless, my ever dear and affectionate Papa,
received Accounts of the Adoption of the new Constitution by
the State of New York; the majority consisting of five only.
On Wednesday 26th inst. (4 days previous to our hearing of
the ratification of this State), there was a very grand Procession
in this city (on account of its being received by ten States)
which proceeded from the plain before Bridewell down Broadway
thro' Wall Street; and, by the way of Great Queen Street,
proceeded to the Federal Green before Bunker's Hill, where
there were tables set for more than five thousand people to
Dine. Two Oxen were roasted whole and several cows and
Sheep. I'll assure [you], my dear Sir, it put me in mind of the
great Preparations which were made in Don Quixote for the
wedding of Camacho and the rich and the fair Quiteria. There
were ten tables set out to represent the ten States which had
acceded to the Constitution; all which were concentered together
at one end, like the sticks of a Fan; where they joined
were seated all the Congress with the President in the middle.
The Procession was very beautiful and well conducted. Every
trade and profession had a Colour emblematical of it. The
chief of the Bakers were drawn on a stage, on which they were
seen mixing their bread; the apprentices, all in white, followed
with ready-baked Cakes. The Coopers followed, making
barrels, and the apprentices followed with a keg under the arm
of each. Next came the Brewers, bringing hogsheads of beer
along with a little Bacchus astride a Cask, holding a large
Goblet in his hand. It would require too much time for me to
tell you of all the different occupations, but, to the honor of
New York, be it spoken that, among 8000 people, who were
said to have dined together on the green, there was not a single
Drunken Man or fight to be seen. On Saturday, the 27th
Inst., news arrived of the Constitution's being adopted. A
party of Federalists, as they call themselves, went to the house
VOL. I—8
of Mr. Greenleaf, printer of the Patriotic Register, and, after
having broken his windows and thrown away his Types (much
to their discredit), went to the Governor's, where they gave
three hisses, and beat the rogue's march around the house.
They proceeded to the houses of the Federals (as they call
them) and gave three cheers."1
1N. Y. Pub. Lib.
"You will no doubt, my ever dear Father, be much astonished
when I tell you that, by the time you receive this, I
shall be far on my return to Williamsburg; and you will be yet
more surprised at hearing that I mean to spend the summer in
one of the Northern States. Since I saw you, I have been informed
that the late horrid and malicious lie, which has been
for some time too freely circulated, has been, by the diligent
exertion of those timid enemies (whom I have not been able by
any insult to force to an interview) so impressed, during my
absence, on the minds of every one, that a public enquiry into
it is now more than ever necessary. Having endeavored, by
every method I could devise, to bring William Randolph [one
of Nancy's brothers] to a personal explanation of his conduct,
and to give me personal satisfaction for his aspersions of my
character, and finding that no insult is sufficient to rouse his
feelings (if he has any), I have at last urged Col. Tom to bring
an action of slander against him. This will bring the whole
affair once more before the eyes of every one, the circumstances,
from beginning to end, of the persons accusing and
accused will be seen at once, and the villainy of my traducers
fully exposed. When this is done, I shall once more know the
blessing of a tranquil mind! . . . "I received your letter of the 13th inst. this morning. You
must be equally conscious with myself that the idea of representing
this district in Congress never originated with me;
and I believe I may with truth assert that it is one which I
never should have entertained, had it not been suggested, in
the first instance, by my friends. I am now as well satisfied,
as I was when you first made to me the proposal of permitting
my friends to declare my willingness to serve my fellow-citizens
in the House of Representatives, that it is an office to which I
can not rationally entertain the smallest pretensions. I,
therefore, willingly resign any which my friends may have formed
for me to any person whom they may approve, and
shall feel happy in giving my vote—interest I have none, and
did I possess any, my principles would forbid my using it on
such an occasion—to a man for whose character I entertain so
high an opinion as that which I have borne ever since my acquaintance
with him for Citizen Daniel's. When I was in
Amelia, I wrote to Citizen Venable, informing him briefly of the
authentic report of his intended resignation, and also that some
of my friends had proposed taking a vote for me. This I was
impelled to do by my sense of propriety, since to me it appeared
highly indelicate that such a thing should be even whispered
before he was informed that it was in agitation. Accept Citizen
my most sincere regards and believe me with truth your friend. "Having stated the facts, it would be derogatory to your
character for me to point out the remedy. So far as they
relate to this application, addressed to you in a public capacity,
they can only be supposed by you to be of a public nature.
VOL. I—11
It is enough for me to state that the independence of the
Legislature has been attacked and the majesty of the people,
of which you are the principal representative, insulted and
your authority contemned. In their name, I demand that a
provision, commensurate with the evil, be made, and which
will be calculated to deter others from any future attempts to
introduce the Reign of Terror into our country. In addressing
you in this plain language of man, I give you, Sir, the best
proof I can afford of the estimation in which I hold your office
and your understanding; and I assure you with truth that I am
with respect your fellow citizen, John Randolph. "Seven times we have balloted—eight states for J—six for
Burr—two, Maryland and Vermont divided; voted to postpone
for an hour the process; now half past four resumed—
result the same. The order against adjourning made with a
view to Mr. Nicholson, who was ill, has not operated. He left
his sick bed—came through a snow storm—brought his bed,
and has prevented the vote of Maryland from being given to
Burr. Mail closing. "To the Freeholders of Charlotte, Prince Edward, Buckingham
and Cumberland: Fellow Citizens: I dedicate to you
the following fragment. That it appears in its present
mutilated shape is to be ascribed to the successful usurpation
which has reduced the freedom of speech in one branch of the
American Congress to an empty name. It is now established
for the first time and in the person of your representative that the
House may and will refuse to hear a member in his place, or
even to receive a motion from him upon the most momentous
subject that can be presented for legislative decision. A
similar motion was brought forward by the Republican minority
in the year 1798 before these modern inventions for stifling
the freedom of debate were discovered. It was discussed as a
matter of right until it was abandoned by the mover in consequence
of additional information (the correspondence of our
envoy at Paris) laid before Congress by the President. In
`the reign of terror' the father of the Sedition Law had not
the hardihood to proscribe liberty of speech, much less the
right of free debate on the floor of Congress. This invasion
of the public liberties was reserved for self-styled Republicans
who hold your understandings in such contempt as to flatter
themselves that you will overlook their every outrage upon
the great first principles of free government in consideration of
their professions of tender regard for the privileges of the
people. It is for you to decide whether they have undervalued
your intelligence and spirit or whether they have formed a just
estimate of your character. You do not require to be told that
the violation of the rights of him, whom you have deputed to
represent you, is an invasion of the rights of every man of you,
of every individual in society. If this abuse be suffered to pass
unredressed—and the people alone are competent to apply the
remedy—we must bid adieu to a free form of government
forever. Having learned from various sources that a declaration
of war would be attempted on Monday next with closed
doors, I deemed it my duty to endeavor by an exercise of my
constitutional functions to arrest this heaviest of all calamities
and avert it from our happy country. I accordingly made the
effort of which I now give you the result, and of the success of
which you will have already been informed before these pages
can reach you. I pretend only to give you the substance of my
unfinished argument. The glowing words, the language of the
heart have passed away with the occasion that called them
forth. They are no longer under my control. My design
is simply to submit to you the views which have induced me to
consider a war with England, under existing circumstances, as
comporting neither with the interest nor the honor of the
American people; but as an idolatrous sacrifice of both on the
altar of French rapacity, perfidy and ambition. For so, without ceremony, permit me to
call you. Among the few causes that I find for regret at my
dismissal from public life, there is none in comparison with
the reflection that it has separated me—perhaps forever—from
some who have a strong hold on my esteem and on my affections.
It would indeed have been gratifying to me to see once
more yourself, Mr. Meade [Rev. Wm. Meade, of Virginia],
Ridgely [Andrew Sterrett Ridgely], and some few others; and
the thought that this may never be is the only one that infuses
any thing of bitterness into what may be termed my disappointment,
if a man can be said to be disappointed when
things happen according to his expectations. On every other
account, I have cause of self-congratulation at being disenthralled
from a servitude at once irksome and degrading.
The grapes are not sour—you know the manner in which you
always combated my wish to retire. Although I have not, like
you, the spirit of a martyr, yet I could not but allow great
force to your representations. To say the truth, a mere sense
of my duty alone might have been insufficient to restrain me
from indulging the very strong inclination which I have felt for
many years to return to private life. It is now gratified in a
way that takes from me every shadow of blame. No man can
reproach me with the desertion of my friends, or the abandonment
of my post in a time of danger and of trial. `I have
fought the good fight, I have kept the faith.' I owe the public
nothing; my friends, indeed, are entitled to everything at my
hands; but I have received my discharge, not indeed honestam
dimissionem, but passable enough, as times go, when delicacy
is not over-fastidious. I am again free, as it respects the
public at least, and have but one more victory to achieve to be
so in the true sense of the word. Like yourself and Mr. Meade,
I cannot be contented with endeavoring to do good for goodness'
sake, or rather for the sake of the Author of all goodness.
In spite of me, I cannot help feeling something very like contempt
for my poor foolish fellow-mortals, and would often
consign them to Bonaparte in this world, and the devil, his
master, in the next; but these are but temporary fits of misanthropy,
which soon give way to better and juster feelings."1
1Garland, v. 2, 11.
Your letter being addressed to Farmville,
did not reach me until yesterday, when my nephew
brought it up. Charlotte Court House is my post-office. By
my last you will perceive that I have anticipated your kind
office in regard to my books and papers at Crawford's. Pray
give them protection `until the Chesapeake shall be fit for
service.' It is, I think, nearly eight years since I ventured to
play upon those words in a report of the Secretary of the
Navy. I have read your letter again and again, and cannot
express to you how much pleasure the perusal has given me. "Your letter of the 14th was received today—many thanks
for it. By the same mail, Mr. Quincy sent me a copy of his
speech of the 30th of last month. It is a composition of much
ability and depth of thought; but it indicates a spirit and a
temper to the North which is more a subject of regret than of
surprise. The grievances of Lord North's administration
were but as a feather in the scale, when compared with those
inflicted by Jefferson and Madison."2
2Ibid., 14.
You lay me under obligations which I know
not how to requite, and yet I cannot help requesting a continuance
of them. I have been highly gratified today by the
receipt of your letter of the 5th, and the accompanying pamphlet.
I have read them both with deep attention, and with a
melancholy pleasure which I should find it difficult to describe.
You are under some misapprehension respecting my opinions
in regard to certain men and measures—the true sources of our
present calamities. They are not materially, if at all, variant
from your own. It is time indeed to speak out; but, if, as I
fear, the canine race in New York have returned to their
vomit, the voice of truth and of patriotism will be as the voice
of one crying in the wilderness. I feel most sensibly
the difficulties of our situation, but the question is as to the
remedy. "You will perceive by the enclosed letter, in case the fact
shall have failed to reach you through any other channel, that
the enemies whom it has been my lot to make in the discharge
of the duties of the station, to which I had been called by the
public suffrage, seem unwilling to allow me even the repose
of that retirement, to which, after many baffled efforts, they
have succeeded in persuading my late constituents to consign
me. I shall not stop to enquire how far such a proceeding be
honorable, or even politic, as it regards the views of those, who
have allowed themselves to adopt it; although the people, with
whom it was once my pride to be connected, must have undergone
some strange metamorphosis, not less rapid and disastrous
than that which our unhappy country has experienced
within the same period of time, if there be one among them
that does not see through the motives of those who would
entreat them to turn their eyes from the general calamity and
shame, and the shameless authors of them, to the faults and
indiscretions, real or imputed, of an old, dismissed public
servant, whose chief offence in the eyes of his accusers is that,
foreseeing mischief, he labored to avert it. Nine years have
now elapsed since he raised his voice against the commencement
of a system of measures, which, although artfully disguised,
were calculated, as he believed, to produce what we
have all seen, and are fated long to feel. Had they, who derided
what they were then pleased to term his `mournful vaticinations,
the reveries of a heated and disordered imagination,'
confided less in their own air-built theories, and taken warning
ere it was too late, they might be riding on `the full tide of
successful experiment,' instead of clinging with instinctive and
convulsive grasp to the wreck, which themselves have made of
public credit, of national honor, of peace, happiness and security,
and of faith among men. The very bonds, not only of
union between these states, but of society itself are loosened,
and we seem `approaching towards that awful dissolution, the
issue of which it is not given to human foresight to scan.' In
the virtue, the moderation, the fortitude of the People is
(under God) our last resource. Let them ever bear in mind
that from their present institutions there is no transition but to
military despotism; and that there is none more easy. Anarchy
is the chrysalis state of despotism; and to that state have the
measures of this government long tended, amidst professions,
such as we have heard in France and seen the effects of, of
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. None but the people can forge
their own chains; and to flatter the people and delude them by
promises never meant to be performed is the stale but successful
practice of the demagogue, as of the seducer in private
life.—`Give me only a helve for my axe,' said the woodman in
the fable to the tall and stately trees, that spread their proud
heads and raised their unlopped arms to the air of heaven.
`Give me an Army,' says the wily politican. It is only to fight
the English, to maintain `Free trade and sailors' rights'; and,
dazzled by the `pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious
war,' heedless of the miseries that lurk beneath its splendor,
the People have said Amen! Of these the heavy debts and
grinding taxes, that follow in its train, are, perhaps, the least.
Disease and vice, in new unheard-of forms, spread from the
camp throughout society. Not a village, not a neighborhood,
hardly a family escapes the infection. The searching miseries
of war penetrate even into the hovel of the shivering negro
whose tattered blanket and short allowance of salt bear witness
to the glories of that administration under which his
master is content to live. His master, no doubt some `Southern
Nabob,' some `Haughty Grandee of Virginia,' the very
idea of whose existence disturbs the repose of over-tender consciences,
is revelling in luxury which the necessary wants of
his wretched bondsmen are stinted to supply. Such is the
stuff that dreams are made of! The master, consumed by
cares, from which even the miserable African is free, accustomed
to the decent comforts of life, is racking his brain for
ways and means to satisfy the demands of the taxgatherer.
You see the struggle between his pride and his necessity. That
ancient relic of better times, on which he bends his vacant eye,
must go. It is, itself, the object of a new tax. He can no longer
afford to keep it. Moreover, he must find a substitute for his
youngest boy called into service. His eldest son has perished
in the tentless camp, the bloodless but fatal fields of the fenny
country; and even for the cherished resemblance of this favorite
child he must pay tribute to Caesar. The tear that starts
into his eye, as he adds this item to the inventory of exaction,
would serve but to excite a philosophic smile in the `Grimm'
Idol (see the diplomatic Baron's correspondence) of the Levee
and its heartless worshippers. "This date says everything. I arrived here on Sunday
afternoon, and am now writing from the Grand Hotel de Castile,
Rue Richelieu and Boulevard des Italiens; for, as the
French say, it `gives' upon both, having an entrance from
each. "A month has now elapsed since I landed in England, during
which time I have not received a line from any friend, except
Benton, who wrote to me on the eve of his departure from
Babylon the Great to Missouri. Missouri!, and here am I
writing in the parlor of the New Inn, at the gate of Mr. Coke's
park, where art has mastered nature in one of her least amiable
moods. To say the truth, he that would see this country to
advantage must not end with the barren sands and flat,
infertile healths (strike out the l; I meant to write heaths) of
the east country, but must reserve the vale of Severn and
Wales for a bonne bouche. Although I was told at Norwich
that Mr. Coke was at home (and by a particular friend of his
too), yet I find that he and Lady Anne are gone to the very
extremity of this huge county to a wool fair, at Thetford,
sixty-five miles off; and, while my companion, Mr. Williams,
of S. C. (son of David R. W.), is gone to the Hall, I am resolved
to bestow, if not `all,' a part at least of `my tediousness'
upon you. Tediousness, indeed, for what have I to write
about, unless to tell you that my health, so far from getting
better, was hardly ever worse? . . . Mr. Williams has been
very attentive and kind to me. I have been trying to persuade
him to abandon me to the underwriters as a total loss, but he
will not desert me; so that I meditate giving him the slip for his
own sake. We saw Dudley Inn and a bad race at Newmarket,
on our way to Norwich. There we embarked on the river Yare,
and proceeded to Yarmouth by the steampacket. We returned
to Norwich by land, and by different routes; he, by the
direct road, and I, by Beccles, fifteen miles further; and yet I
arrived first. Through Lord Suffield's politeness, who gave
me a most hearty invitation to Gunton, I was enabled to see
the Castle (now the county jail) to the best advantage. His
lordship is a great prison discipline financier, and was very
polite to me when I was in England four years ago. I met
him by mere accident at the inn at Norwich, where the coach
from Beccles stopped. . . . " `The Portfolio reached me in safety.' So much had I written
of a letter to you in London, but I was obliged to drop my pen
in G. Marx' compting-house, and here I am, and at your service
at The Hague. . . . "It is now agreed on all hands that misery, crime and profligacy
are in a state of rapid and alarming increase. The Pitt
and paper system (for although he did not begin it, yet he
brought it to its last stage of imperfection) is now developing
features that `fright the isle from its propriety.' "Mr. W. J. Barksdale writes his father that a run will be
made at me by G—s [Giles] this winter. On this subject, I
can only repeat what I have said before—that, when the Commonwealth
of Virginia dismisses a servant, it is strong presumptive
evidence of his unfitness for the station. If it shall
apply to my own case, I cannot help it. But I should have
nothing to wish on this subject, if the Assembly could be put
in possession of a tolerably faithful account of what I have said
and done. I have been systematically and industriously misrepresented.
I had determined to devote this last summer
to a revision of my speeches, but my life would have paid
the forfeit, had I persisted in that determination. Many
of the misrepresentations proceed from the `ineffable stupidity'
of the reporters, but some must, I think, be intentional.
. . . In most instances, my meaning has been
mistaken. In some, it has been reversed. If I live, I will set
this matter right. So much for Ego. You might know by the date (as regards the month) that I
was in the only realm in Christendom, where the new style is
not yet introduced. Much to my disappointment, your old
friend, Mr. Lewis, is not here. He is & has been for sometime
in England. I therefore sent your letter to his Compting
House as the most ready mode of getting it to his hands. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 8 | Author: | unknown | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Daily Progress historical and industrial magazine | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE City of Opportunity, where welcome waits the stranger. County Seat of Albemarle. Home of the far-famed University
of Virginia. "A land flowing with milk and honey." Her glorious past and future possibilities. Endowed by nature
as a place of residence. A brief review of her business men whose loyalty, public spirit and sterling qualities
have earned for her the proud distinction she holds in the sisterhood of cities of the great and growing Southland. Mr. Albert E. Walker is an editor
and publisher of unusual ability. He
has just completed the issuance of a
special edition for the Mail, and we
are pleased to say the edition was in
every way a success. His relations
with us, and with the business and
professional men of Hagerstown are
of the most cordial character. He has
left behind him here the confidence
and good will of all with whom he
came in contract. In him trust may
safely reposed. Dear Sir: We feel that a word from
us is only just to you in view of your
excellent work on our Special Historical
and Industrial Edition which has
recently been issued, as it might meet
the eye of some publisher who needs
the services of an honest, capable and
energetic man to take charge of a similar
work. In all the long time that
you have been with us, our relations
have been most pleasant and we unhesitatingly
commend you as a thoroughly
competent compiler of special
editions and special work in the newspaper
field. Your sobriety and indefatigable
industry have been of especial
value to us and you have made
many friends in Frederick. We shall
take pleasure in being of service to
you at any time you may call on us.
With many good wishes for your
future success, we remain. This will certify that Mr. Albert E.
Walker has just completed for the
Martinsburg Statesman the largest and
handsomest Industrial Magazine ever
published in the state of West Virginia,
a publication we deem a credit to us
and our city. Mr. Walker has, by his
uniform courtesy and straightforward
methods, won the esteem of the entire
community. We will be pleased to
furnish at any time further endorsements
if desired. Mr. Albert E. Walker has rendered
most valuable service to the Patriot
for its special Christmas edition. Mr.
Walker carries with him our best
wishes for his success. We have found
him capable, courteous and thoroughly
reliable, and can and do recommend
him to the newspaper fraternity. Mr.
Walker sustained the most satisfactory
relations with our business men during
the progress of the work securing
for the Patriot their hearty co-operation
and support. Mr. A. E. Walker: Accept the congratulations
of the Merchants and
Manufacturers Association upon the
achievement of your splendid work of
compiling and editing the special industrial
edition of The Mail, which is
one of the best and greatest literary
efforts ever attempted in the county.
We feel that this work is an invaluable
compendium, showing the advantages
of our city, and we deem it our
duty to extend to you our best wishes
in your chosen field, which can not
help to be beneficial to any community. We take pleasure in announcing to
the manufacturers of Maryland that
the Baltimore Sunday Herald will
issue an Industrial Magazine which will
present in prose and picture Maryland's
leading industries, showing the extent
of their dealing and magnitude of
their operations in the commercial
world. These editions will be found
on file in every Chamber of Commerce
and Board of trade in all the leading
cities of the United States, while the
foreign circulation will cover the
United States consulates of every English
speaking country on the globe.
The direct management of this work
will be under the supervision of Mr.
Albert E. Walker, the well known
writer and recognized authority of
national repute on industrial matters. Mr. Walker is not only a hustler but
is a gentleman in every respect. His
business methods are honorable and all
with whom he did business would be
glad to certify to his strict integrity.
I cheerfully recommend him to any
publisher who desires to issue a
souverior edition. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 9 | Author: | Irving
Washington
1783-1859 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Works | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | "Mr. Will Cottington and Captain
Partridg of Rhoode-Iland presented this
insewing request to the commissioners in
wrighting— "As touching the threats in your conclusion,
we have nothing to answer, only
that we fear nothing but what God (who
is as just as merciful) shall lay upon us;
all things being in his gracious disposal,
and we may as well be preserved by him
with small forces as by a great army,
which makes us to wish you all happiness
and prosperity, and recommend
you to his protection. My lords, your
thrice humble and affectionate servant
and friend, "I am of this mind with Homer, that as the
snaile that crept out of her shell was turned eftsoons
into a toad, and thereby was forced to make
a stoole to sit on; so the traveller that stragleth
from his owne country is in a short time transformed
into so monstrous a shape, that he is faine
to alter his mansion with his manners, and to live
where he can, not where he would." A POSTHUMOUS WRITING OF DIEDRICH
KNICKERBOCKER. "The story of Rip Van Winkle may seem incredible
to many, but nevertheless I give it my full
belief, for I know the vicinity of our old Dutch
settlements to have been very subject to marvellous
events and appearances. Indeed, I have heard
many stranger stories than this, in the villages
along the Hudson; all of which were too well
authenticated to admit of a doubt. I have even
talked with Rip Van Winkle myself, who, when
last I saw him, was a very venerable old man, and
so perfectly rational and consistent on every other
point, that I think no conscientious person could
refuse to take this into the bargain; nay, I have
seen a certificate on the subject taken before a
country justice, and signed with a cross, in the justice's
own hand-writing. The story, therefore, is
beyond the possibility of doubt. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 11 | Author: | Clemons
Harry
1879-1968 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The A.L.A. in Siberia | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | . . . Perhaps I had better begin epistolary communication
by certain commentaries on the cablegrams. Yesterday and today I have found four new places where
books have been distributed. The largest collection was of
300 volumes, shelved in a Y. M. C. A. hut and canteen.
There were just sixteen books on the shelves, the others being
in circulation! The cards had been used in this case, and
I found that the cards recorded an average use of fully ten
loans per volume. The men were reading everything in
sight. At the beginning of this week I seemed at a loss how to
proceed. However, I learned at the office of the Chief of
Staff that a letter had recently been received there from
Miss Mary Polk of Manila stating that a dozen or so boxes
of books and periodicals had been sent by transport from the
Philippines. So I started after these, ran into a mesh of red
tape, and after some patient unwinding—during which I received
most courteous treatment—I reached the following
results—which make up my report for the week:— I have finished unpacking the boxes of periodicals which I
reported last week. The periodicals have been sorted and I
have now begun the more interesting work of making up
sets to send out. Already twenty-eight sets have been made up
for seventeen places. Some have been distributed, but thirteen
mail sacks are ready for tomorrow. I hope to be able to
send sets to all the detachments, large and small, of this expedition
during the coming week—Christmas week. Thus do
we introduce the short-story into the long Siberian night. On December 24th, I cabled to you: "For sending money
Vladivostok branch Hongkong Shanghai Bank available." There was a violent storm here on New Year's Day, and
. . . consequently what is officially known as "transportation"
has been interfered with. Herewith acknowledge receipt of parcel of magazines received
from you today. In thanking you for this shipment
I would like to express my personal appreciation for the very
good work done by the American Library Association in all
the posts that I have seen in Siberia. There has just come by post from Miss Mary Polk, of
Manila, a very welcome collection of supplies and information.
I have been particularly eager to get printed or other matter
about the working of the Camp Libraries in the States and
overseas. . . . Yesterday I received by registered post from "The One Hundredth
Bank, Ltd.," Tokyo, Japan, the following letter, under
date of January eighth: . . . "We beg to enclose herewith a cheque payable at the
Matsuda Bank for yen 3,720.93, being the equivalent of $2,000
at $53¾. This past week has been a fairly busy one. Now that I
am able to get really to work with real cases of real A. L. A.
books, perhaps you will not have to wade through such
lengthy screeds from me. . . . Last week I reported to you
the details of the quest of seven cases of books, which had
gone to the Y. M. C. A. All the difficulties which had not
previously arisen in that quest emerged this week. However,
I got the cases on Thursday. . . . One of the seven
cases was short about twenty or twenty-five books. I judge
that the case had been opened en route. I have written to the
Director of the Y. M. C. A. in Vladivostok for any possible
clue about the missing volumes. . . . The use of the little Clearing House and Reference
Library has increased beyond my expectations. And the cases
which I have been able to distribute from the twenty-one
received (three of which were sent out by the Y. M. C. A.)
have only whetted the appetite for more. I shall be grievously
disappointed if the next transport—due in about a
week—does not bring a number of cases. On February 4th, I received the following cable message:
. . . "Shall we subscribe magazines continue book shipments
how many." . . . Now I have both letters and books. In quantity too.
. . . Your words, "Your plan of action seems the only wise
one," gave me immense relief. I have felt the aim of the
American Library Association War Service. That explains
my coming to Siberia. But I was anxious lest my lack of any
experience in camp library methods should make my efforts
appear futile to you from the very start. I have taken the opportunity to go over your letter of
January ninth and the two sets of circular instructions more
carefully. . . . As yet I have not discovered an answer to my
question concerning the ultimate disposal of books. . . . Next
as regards the shipment of books from Manila and from San
Francisco. . . . When I arrived in December, of the fifty-five
cases, twenty-four were in the Quartermaster's warehouse,
having arrived but a short time before. The others
had apparently been disposed of among the forces by the
Quartermaster's Department. One of the twenty-four cases
was addressed to a regiment with headquarters at Habarovsk,
and I sent this on without opening. Of the others all but
five or six contained periodicals. These I distributed as I
have previously reported. Two boxes of good books I turned
over to the Colonel in command at the American Base, for
his regimental library—a very successful institution. There
were two huge boxes of books, many of them old and worn
and worm-eaten and all having two or three club labels pasted
on the covers. I repacked ten smaller boxes from these and
sent them to various places—a hospital, isolated stations, and
so on. Several hundred of these remain. I have permitted
them to be taken as gifts and have continued to distribute
them myself as opportunity offered—when a new ward was
opened in a nearby hospital, when a "troupe" of soldiers went
off to perform at various detachments, when a Red Cross guard
went to Omsk, when I learned of a handful of signal corps men
at a point on the railway. About a hundred and fifty newer
books I kept until I received some cards and pockets from
Miss Polk—for I found none of the books in the cases
equipped with cards and pockets—and with this hundred
and fifty I was able to effect the beginnings of an exchange of
A. L. A. books which had previously been distributed. This
exchange affected five different detachments. Notice has reached me by letter from San Francisco that
on the March transport, the "Thomas," which is due to arrive
this coming week, there are thirty-four cases of books for
me and four for the transport. . . . I shall then have received
one hundred and twenty-two altogether. If twenty more are
sent in response to my recent cablegram, there will be an adequate
supply for this expedition at its present strength. The transport "Thomas" has arrived with A. L. A. cases,
but as these are unloaded by the Quartermaster's Corps,
turned over to the Commanding General, turned back to the
Q. M. C., and turned over to me, it will probably be several
days before my "turn" comes. The thirty-four cases for the A. E. F. Siberia have been
turned over to me. As yet I have not discovered the case of
supplies, but this may possibly be at the bottom of the pile. This week the Chief of Staff went over with me the situation
concerning the withdrawal of the Expedition. . . . The
conference was specifically about the answer, [&c.] The Chief
of Staff finally suggested that periodicals might be ordered
for the permanent units. . . . In case of any withdrawals
the periodicals would, of course, follow these units to their
new location. . . . . . . The three boxes of books containing respectively, 69
71 and 71 volumes, were promptly received and have been
placed in the crew's library of this vessel. I need hardly assure
you that the acquisition of a new collection of books
at this time and place was especially gratifying. Last week I gave you the reasons for making the subscriptions
for periodicals. . . . The colonels . . . have expressed
pleasure at the idea of receiving these periodicals. I enclose
a copy of the signed letter from Colonel Styer. In reply to yours of March 23rd, I beg to say that we will
appreciate very much receiving the periodicals you mention.
If they are addressed to the Headquarters of the Regiment,
the Chaplain will attend to their distribution in case our
companies are scattered in a number of places. . . . This past week I have received your letter of February
twenty-first and two cable messages. . . . This week a box of periodicals sent by the United States
Soldiers' Christian Aid Association, George Breck, Esq., Secretary,
5 Beekman Street, New York City, was turned over
to me for distribution. The periodicals have been distributed
and the gift acknowledged. . . . Up to the present I have repacked, listed, and distributed
eighty-two cases. . . . [To continue] my attempts to
cover the whole Expedition and to make the distribution of
books so far as possible proportional to the strength of the
detachments . . . now means a redistribution of books, and
a redistribution from centers outside of Vladivostok and the
Base—from centers, that is, which are going to be reduced in
strength. Hence, I have been waiting for a fortnight or so,
and shall continue to do so until it becomes clear how the
troops are to be located. . . . . . . By repacking each case of books sent out from the
Clearing House Library (eighty-seven cases have thus far
been so repacked) and retaining a list of the contents, I have
been able to build up collections of books that were largely
free from duplication and that contained a proportion and
type of non-fiction books adapted to the local use—at least
such has been my purpose. It is altogether probable that
in the redistribution of troops the larger collections have been
broken up into smaller collections and repacked for this purpose
in such a way that I have no longer any use for my
lists. The plans for the redistribution of troops have been
carried out rapidly and my appeals to the various centers for
information about the books have thus far brought not a
single response. Of course, where companies have gone out
from the Base at Vladivostok I have been able to handle
the matter as before. But the troops from centers like
Habarovsk have gone from those centers, they are now on the
way, and, though the sectors to be guarded are known, the
actual locations of the entrained troops will depend on the
discovery of suitable barracks by the Commanding Officers;
hence, these ultimate locations are not known even at Head-quarters
in Vladivostok. . . . I have written two short letters containing lists of
books desired by Captain Ward of the Intelligence Department
and by Lieutenant Horgan, the Morale Officer. No cable . . . no message about my relief has been received.
The cable business here is extraordinarily slow and
uncertain. Your message of March fourteenth did not reach
me until the end of the month. . . . The administration of
this Expedition amid huge distances and such means of
communication and transportation is one of the feats of the
war. . . . Chaplain Loughran [appointed my successor] is one of the
four chaplains who arrived a fortnight ago on the transport
"Sherman." He has been assigned to the Base, lives at the
officers' mess where I have been staying, and a simple chapel
room is being made for him in warehouse number three, one
wall of the chapel serving also as a wall of the Base Library.
So his work will be centralized—the feast of reason on one
side and the flow of soul on the other. He is Catholic. Already
he has made a good impression for energy and for
ability to get on with the men. . . . | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | unknown | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Studies in bibliography, Volume 56 (2003-2004) | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | Studies in Bibliography | | | | Description: | At the opening panel of the 2001 conference of the Society for
Textual Scholarship, some interesting remarks about copy-text
were delivered by John Unsworth, a member of the Modern
Language Association's Committee on Scholarly Editions
(CSE). Unsworth said that he had originally planned to tell his audience
that "the Greg-Bowers theory of editing" or "copy-text theory" had
once enjoyed "hegemony within the CSE," but no longer did, owing to
challenges from outside the Greg-Bowers school, where the focus was on
other "periods, languages, and editorial circumstances." Unsworth submitted
this thesis to Robert H. Hirst, the chair of the CSE at the time,
for his thoughts, and reported receiving the following reply: | | | Similar Items: | Find |
|
