University of Virginia Library

My Dear Sir,—Having established, at great expense,
and from motives purely patriotic and disinterested, a monthly
periodical for the purpose of supplying a desideratum in
American Literature, namely, the commemoration and perpetuation
of the names, characters, and personal and professional
traits and histories of American lawyers and jurists, I
have taken the liberty of soliciting your consent to be made
the subject of one of the memoirs, which shall adorn the columns
of this Journal. This suggestion is made from my
knowledge, shared by the intelligence of the whole country,
of your distinguished standing and merits in our noble profession;
and it is seconded by the wishes and requests of
many of the most prominent gentlemen in public and private
life, who have the honor of your acquaintance.

The advantages of a work of this sort, in its more public
and general bearing, are so patent, that it would be useless
for me to refer to them. The effect of the publication upon
the fame of the individual commemorated is, if not equally
apparent, at least, equally decided. The fame of an American
lawyer, like that of an actor, though sufficiently marked
and cognizable within the region of his practice, and by the
witnesses of his performances, is nevertheless, for the want
of an organ for its national dissemination, or of an enduring
memorial for its preservation, apt to be ephemeral, or, at
most, to survive among succeeding generations, only in the
form of unauthentic and vague traditions. What do we know
of Henry or of Grundy as lawyers, except that they were
eloquent and successful advocates. But what they did
was to acquire reputation, and, of course, the true value of
it, is left to conjecture; or, as in the case of the former, especially,
to posthumous invention or embellishment.

It was the observation of the great Pinkney, that the
lawyer's distinction was preferable to all others, since it
was impossible to acquire in our profession, a false or fraudulent
reputation. How true this aphorism is, the pages of
this L.w M......e will abundantly illustrate.

The value, and, indeed, the fact of distinction, consists
in its uncommonness. In a whole nation of giants, the
Welsh monster in Barnum's Museum would be undistinguished.
Therefore, we—excuse the editorial plural—strive
to collect the histories only of the most eminent of the profession
in the several States; the aggregate of whom reaches

some two or three hundred names. You have undoubtedly
seen some of the numbers of our work, which will better illustrate
our plan, and the mode of its past, as well as the
intended mode of its future, execution.

It would be affectation, my dear sir, to deny that what
mainly consoles us under a sense of the hazardous nature of
such an enterprise to our personal fortunes—pardon the pun,
if you please—and amidst the anxieties of so laborious an
undertaking, is the expectation, that, through our labors,
the reputation of distinguished men of the country, constituting
its moral treasure, may be preserved for the admiration
and direction of mankind, not for a day, but for all time.
And it has occurred to me, that such true merit as yours
might find a motive for your enrolment among the known sages
and profound intellects of the land, not less in the natural desire
of a just perpetuation of renown, than in the patriotism
which desires the improvement of the race of lawyers who
are to come after you, and the adding to the accredited standards
of public taste and professional attainment and genius.

We know from experience, that the characteristic diffidence
of the profession, in many instances, shrinks from the
seeming, though falsely seeming, indelicacy of an egotistical
parade of one's own talents and accomplishments, and from
walking into a niche of the Pantheon of American genius we
have opened, and over the entrance to which, “FOR THE
GREAT” is inscribed. But the facility with which this difficulty
has been surmounted by some, of whose success we had
reason to entertain apprehensions, adds but further evidence

of the capacity which the noble profession of the law gives
for the most arduous exploits. Besides, sir, although the
facts are expected to be furnished by the subject, yet the
first person is but seldom used in the memoir—some complaisant
friend, or some friend's name being employed as editor
of the work; the subject sometimes, indeed, having nothing
to do except to revise it and transmit it to this office.

You may remember, my dear Colonel, the exclamatory
line of the poet—

And so it used to be: but in this wonderfully progressive
age it is no longer so. It is the pride of your humble
correspondent to have constructed a plan, by means of his
journal, whereby a gentleman of genius may, with the assistance
of a single friend, or even without it, wind himself, up
from the vale below, as by a windlass, up to the very cupola
of the temple.

May we rely upon your sending us the necessary papers,
viz., a sketch of your life, genius, exploits, successes, accomplishments,
virtues, family antecedents, personal pulchritudes,
professional habitudes, and whatever else you may
deem interesting. You can see from former numbers of our
work, that nothing will be irrelevant or out of place. The
sketch may be from ten to sixty pages in length.

Please send also a good daguerreotype likeness of yourself,
from which an engraving may be executed, to accompany the

sketch. The daguerreotype had better be taken with reference
to the engraving to accompany the memoir—the hair
combed or brushed from the brow, so as to show a high forehead—the
expression meditative—a book in the hand, &c.

Hoping soon to hear favorably from you, I am, with
great respect and esteem,

Dear Sir—I got your letter dated 18 Nov., asking me
to send you my life and karackter for your Journal. Im
obleeged to you for your perlite say so, and so forth. I got
a friend to rite it—my own ritin being mostly perfeshunal.
He done it—but he rites such a cussed bad hand I cant rede
it: I reckon its all korrect tho'.

As to my doggerrytype I cant send it there aint any doggerytype
man about here now. There never was but won,
and he tried his mershine on Jemmy O. a lawyer here, and
Jem was so mortal ugly it bust his mershine all to pieces
trying to git him down, and liked to killed the man that ingineered
the wurks.

You can take father's picter on Jonce Hooper's book—

take off the bend in the back, and about twenty years of age
off en it and make it a leetle likelier and it 'll suit me but dress
it up gentele in store close.

My Dear Sir—The very interesting sketch of your life
requested by us, reached here accompanied by your favor of
the 1st inst., for which please receive our thanks.

We were very much pleased with the sketch, and think it
throws light on a new phase of character, and supplies a desideratum
in the branch of literature we are engaged in—the
description of a lawyer distinguished in the out-door labors of
the profession, and directing great energies to the preparation
of proof.

We fear, however, the suggestion you made of the use of
the engraving of your distinguished father will not avail; as
the author, Mr. Hooper, has copyrighted his work, and we
should be exposing ourselves to a prosecution by trespassing
on his patent. Besides, the execution of such a work by no
better standard, would not be creditable either to our artist,
yourself, or our Journal. We hope you will conclude to
send on your daguerreotype to be appended to the lively and
instructive sketch you furnish; and we entertain no doubt

that the contemplated publication will redound greatly to
your honor, and establish yours among the classical names
of the American bar.

Dear Mr. Editor—In your p. s. which seems to be the
creem of your correspondents you say I can't get in your
book without paying one hundred and fifty dollars—pretty
tall entrants fee! I suppose though children and niggers
half price—I believe I will pass. I'll enter a nolly prossy
q. O-n-e-h-u-n-d-r-e-d dollars and fifty better! Je-whellikens!

I just begin to see the pint of many things which was very
vague and ondefinit before. Put Barnum in first—one hundred
and fifty dollars!

That's the consideratum you talk of is it.