Juliana Horatio Ewing - "Jackanapes"

P. G. Wodehouse - "The Man With Two Left Feet"

E. Nesbit - "The Incomplete Amorist"

Sallust - "Conspiracy of Catiline and The Jurgurthine War"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Memoirs of Aaron Burr, Volume 2.

M >> Matthew L. Davis >> Memoirs of Aaron Burr, Volume 2.




THEODOSIA.



TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, June 3, 1903.

I have only to announce my safe arrival yesterday noon. Went forthwith
to see the B.'s. They were all out of town. Will be back to-day.

Send me the number of volumes of the American Encyclopedia. I wish to
complete the set, and must, therefore, know the deficiencies. I have
seen none of your acquaintance save the Biddles. To-morrow (if I
should in the mean time receive a letter from you) I shall add
something. You are the two most spiritless young persons I ever knew.
Pray muster up energy enough to do something more than lounge on
sofas. Go on Sunday to Ludlow's. Ask some of your friends often to
dine with you. There is a little boy right opposite my window who has
something of the way of "mammy's treasure." Don't be jealous; not half
so handsome. I have had him over to my room, and have already taught
him to _bang_. Adieu.

A. BURR.



FROM THEODOSIA.

New-York, June 4, 1803.

Encore stupid. For Heaven's sake, what do you imagine I can find to
say once a day that is worth saying, shut up thus, either tinkling on
the harp or holding a tete-a-tete conversation? You must, indeed, have
a high opinion of my genius and the fertility of my imagination.

Pray how do you advance? Heavy business, is it not? I beg you will
perform your promise, and write me the history of it. I'll bind it in
red morocco, and keep it for the advantage and instruction of the boy.
Adieu. Do not forget my commission, and return soon.



A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, June 5, 1803.

I received yesterday your first letter. Pray no more apologies about
your stupidity, &c., because on that subject I am perfectly informed.
Be pleased to recollect that your letters cannot be answered the day
they are received. We are now even. I wrote you on Friday.

I went this morning to see L. and Keene. The former, as usual, polite,
friendly, and cheerful. The latter something improved by a very slight
acquisition of embonpoint; so very slight, however, as not to be
obvious to common optics. They will pass their summer at their present
residence, and I have almost promised that you shall make them a
visit.

But I should have narrated in the order of events according to their
dates or in the order of the importance. Neither hath been observed,
which argues ill of my temper of mind for the principal pursuit. Cette
----- spoils me. From that intercourse I return faintly to the line of
duty. On Friday I saw the inamorata, and it happened as we had feared;
for really I did not know whom I had the honour to address; nor could
I, with certainty, discover during the interview, for I saw but one.
The appearance was pleasing. There was something pensive and
interesting. It exceeded my expectations. It was a visit of ceremony,
and passed off as such. This day I met the whole four at dinner. My
attentions were pointed, and met a cheerful return. There was more
sprightliness than before. Le pere leaves town to-morrow for eight
days, and I am now meditating whether to take the fatal step
to-morrow. I falter and hesitate, which you know is not the way. I
tremble at the success I desire. You will not know my determination
till Wednesday. In the mean time I crave your prayers.

I entreat you to ride about. Your monotonous life can never restore
your health; nay, it is hostile to recovery. The business part of my
journey assumes some importance, but the result is uncertain. Adieu.

A. BURR.



TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, June 6, 1803.

The plot thickens, and I do not find it possible to communicate
faithfully the details, without hazarding too much in case of loss of
the letter. Something, however, may be said.

I called at the house this morning; before I had asked for any one in
particular, the servant bid me in, and in a few minutes Inamorat sole
appeared. This looked like secret understanding or sympathy; perhaps,
however, it was only as head and representative of the family. She
looked well; but, unfortunately, a trifling carelessness in dress had
nearly concluded the farce. Recollecting, however, that they were
packing up for a temporary removal, to take place this very day, an
apology was obvious. Having made to myself the apology, I went
further, and found that there was politeness, _at least_, in receiving
me, and in so prompt an attendance under such circumstances. After ten
minutes le pere came in; conversation became general, and I took
leave.

Returning home, and pondering on the subject most profoundly for full
five minutes, I boldly took up my pen, and wrote le pere that I wished
a few minutes' conversation with him at his own house in the course of
the day. Within an hour he was at _my room_ to receive the
communication. Now paint to yourself a desperate miscreant on the
point of committing self-murder, trembling with anxiety, choking for
want of utterance, &c. Having formed the portrait to your own taste, I
must tell you that there was no such figure. The salutations, on
meeting, passed as usual. An expression or two of sensibility to the
courtesy which anticipated so promptly the intended visit, and then
some unembarrassed direct questions and monosyllabic answers. "Is
----- under any engagement?" _None_. "Would it be agreeable to you
that ----- should make overtures?" &c. _Certainly_. A very
complimentary thing, however, was said by le pere. It was agreed that
the suiter should make known his pretensions, he (le pere) declining
to intermeddle. _End of the first act_.

I have the honour to acknowledge the receipt of your two letters, both
dated June 4. Evidently they cost you great labour.

June 7.

I left this open that I might acknowledge the receipt of one by this
morning's mail. I am gratified to have it in my power. The accident to
the harp has been very fortunate, inasmuch as it enabled you to make
out a long letter on the subject. However it may be broken, nothing is
so easy to be repaired. Kiss dear little _bang_.

A. BURR.



TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, June 7, 1803.

As you were informed yesterday, my _Celeste_ has gone with the family
(le pere excepted) to pass a fortnight six miles from town. I go
to-morrow morning to recommend myself; and that no time may be wasted,
and these six mile rides may not be too often repeated to no purpose,
I shall not go much round about the subject, but come pretty directly
to the point; of all which you will be duly informed.

Truly, if my head be as confused as my narrative, it will be of little
use to me in the negotiation. I should have begun by relating what
happened this morning. There are, however, two ways of telling a
story. One by beginning with the oldest event, and so travelling down
to the close of the tale, and this is the mode commonly used by
philosophers and historians. The other, is by commencing with the most
recent fact or earliest incident, which is the mode universally
practised by lovers, and, generally, by poets. I could even quote
Homer and Virgil as authorities in support of this latter method.
Further I may add, that this retro-progressive arrangement seems more
congenial with the temper and feelings of the fair sex. Thus, you see,
most ladies turn first to the last chapter of a novel or romance. In
defence of this practice I could dilate to the utmost extent of many
sheets; but, intending soon to publish an essay on the subject, I
leave for the present the residue to your reflections, and return to
the interview of this morning.

I was admitted without hesitation, and was presently joined by
Celeste, though I had not particularized any one as the object of my
visit. For some minutes she led the conversation, and did it with
grace and sprightliness, and with admirable good sense. I made several
attempts to divert it to other subjects--subjects which might have
nearer affinity, again, to others; unsuccessfully, however; yet,
whether I was foiled through art or accident, I could not discover. Be
assured she is much superior to l'ainee.

"I would be wooed, and, not unsought, be won."

So I conjectured she thought, and she was right.

A. BURR.



TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, June 8, 1803.

I told you the negotiation should not be long. It is
finished--concluded--for ever abandoned--_liber sum_. Celeste never
means to marry; "firmly resolved." I am very sorry to hear it, madam;
had promised myself great happiness, but cannot blame your
determination. "No, certainly, sir, you cannot; for I recollect to
have heard you express surprise that any woman would marry, &c., and
you gave such reasons, and with so much eloquence, as made an
indelible impression on my mind." Have you any commands to town,
madam? I wish you a good-morning. _End of the second and last act_.

The interview was about an hour. Celeste was greatly agitated;
behaved, however, with great propriety. The parting was full of
courtesy, and there is reason to hope that there will be no hanging or
drowning.

I dined to-day chez Rush. The two elder daughters are in Canada. The
little Julia, now about ten, is growing up very lovely and _tres
gentile_. Afterward called to see your friend, Mrs. Stewart, and her
beautiful daughter. She is really beautiful. To-morrow I dine chez la
Raz.

The law business goes on slowly; may be finished about Tuesday next,
after which I shall hasten to those who love me, when I shall
endeavour to rouse them from their lethargy, and give them a little
zest for life. Just now I recollect that I have no letter from you
this morning, at which I was confoundedly vexed. I stop, therefore,
and shall withhold even this for a day, by way of punishment. You will
say that you were not well, that you were engaged in company, that the
servant neglected to take the letter, or some such trite thing. All
nonsense. Bon soir.

Thursday morning.

Your letter of Tuesday, containing the history of the dinner, is
received this morning. Truly, I think that Mr. and Mrs. Moore and Clem
might, with any tolerable aid, have made the dinner gay. Mr. and Mrs.
Moore have both a great deal of wit, and are both well bred. Clem is
by no means deficient. It must, therefore, have been the fault of
yourself and husband. If the harp is not essentially injured, I would
not purchase a new one. Kiss little _bang_.

A. BURR.



FROM THEODOSIA.

New-York, June 9, 1803.

I received yesterday your three letters of the 5th and 6th. They made
me laugh, yet I pity you, and have really a fellow feeling for you.
Poor little Rippy, so you are mortgaged! But you bear it charmingly;
do you think this courage will last, or is it only a spasm? Spasmodic
love. It is really quite new. The trifling incident in relation to
dress you must pardon. I am a _connoisseur_ in these things, and can
assure you they are very pardonable.

I am all anxiety and impatience for to-day's mail. But it surprises me
that _primo mobile_ is forgotten. Pray, have you lived altogether on
pepper? We shall ride to Montalto this afternoon, and you shall know
our reception. I am too anxious for my letters to add a word more.
Poor Starling!

THEODOSIA.



TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, June 10, 1803.

Yesterday I dined chez la Raz; a very pleasant party. The farce of
eight days past had been forgotten, or recollected only as a dream.

Just as I sit down to write to you I receive a note from Celeste,
advising me that she is in town for a few hours, and will be happy to
see me. What in the name of love and matrimony can this mean? The
conclusion was definitive, and a mutual promise that neither would
ever renew the subject. I am all impatience, and I go to hear. You
shall know to-morrow.

A. BURR.



FROM THEODOSIA.

New-York, June 10, 1803.

My apology for not writing this morning is enclosed. We have been
dining with Mrs. Laight to-day, and have been much amused. We are to
take them, with Miss Laight and Miss Brown, in curricle and coachee to
Montalto to-morrow afternoon. We are absolutely two demonstrations of
two laws in mechanics. When we repose it requires a great exertion to
move us, and when put in motion we go on.

My interruption last evening prevented me from wishing you joy at the
declaration of independence. What are your plans now. Cher petit pere,
the boy kisses you; but I do not, because you remain so long in
Philadelphia.

THEODOSIA.



Footnotes:

1. Her cousin, Catharine Brown, daughter of Dr. Joseph Brown.




CHAPTER XIV.


TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, June 11, 1803.

_Continuation of the Story of the Loves of Reubon and Celeste_.

Your recollection must be recalled to the fatal and decisive interview
of Wednesday. The result only was stated in a former letter. It would
have required too much time to compress into the compass of one or two
sheets a conversation of two hours. The details are therefore omitted;
but a circumstance which will increase your surprise at the incident
related yesterday morning is, that, on Wednesday night, Reubon
received by the hands of a servant of Celeste, sent for the sole
purpose seven miles, a letter from her, couched in civil terms, but
expressing "an unalterable determination never to listen again to his
suit, and requesting that the subject might never be renewed." Reubon
returned home late last evening, and was told that a boy had been
three times in the course of the afternoon and evening to deliver him
a message, but refused to say from whom he came. The last time the
servant of Reubon traced the boy to the house of Celeste in town. It
was not known that Celeste had been that day in town, and no
conjecture could be formed as to the owner of the boy or the object of
his message. The note received by Reubon this morning explains the
mystery. The letter which I wrote you by the mail left Reubon puzzling
his brain to discover the meaning of that note, and just going out to
obey the challenge which it conveyed. He went, as you were apprized,
and has just now returned and communicated what you shall now hear.

Some years ago, a worthy country judge, having heard a cause very
ingeniously debated by lawyers on each side, when he came to charge
the jury, did it in the words following: "Gentlemen of the jury, you
must get along with this cause as well as you can; for my part, I am
swamp'd." Now Reubon is exactly in the case of this judge, and I am at
a loss what to advise him. You could unravel this thing in five
minutes. Would to God you were here; but to the story.

He found Celeste with a visitor; some female neighbour, who sat a full
half hour. Celeste betrayed considerable agitation when Reubon came
in, and the most palpable impatience at the long stay of the lady
visitor. At length she went, and the parties were alone. As she had
desired the interview, it was her place to speak first. After a pause
and several efforts, she, with some trepidation, said that she feared
the letter which she had writen had not been expressed in terms
sufficiently polite and respectful; she had wished an opportunity to
apologize; and here she stuck. Reubon ought in mercy and in politeness
to have taken up the conversation; but he, expecting no such thing,
was taken by surprise, and remained dumb, with a kind of half grin.
The duette, at this moment, would have made a charming subject for the
pencil of Vanderlyn. Celeste was profoundly occupied in tearing up
some roses which she held in her hand, and Reubon was equally
industrious in twirling his hat, and pinching some new corners and
angles in the brim. At length he recovered himself so far as to gain
utterance. He denied, plumply, that there was want of politeness or
respect in the letter; and, after many awkward detours and
half-finished sentences, he said he would return the letter, and would
consider it as cancelling the determination which it contained, and
proposed to call on her in the country to-morrow morning to renew his
suit. This was _faintly_ opposed. He changed the course of
conversation, without insisting on a formal permission or refusal, and
then went into the subject of celibacy and matrimony, and passed an
hour tete-a-tete. It may be worth noting that, towards the close of
the conversation, some one knocked, and that she went out and ordered
the servant to deny her, from which it may be inferred that she was
not disagreeably engaged, and that she did not wish to be interrupted.

Now, ma Minerve, is not this a very ridiculous posture for so grave an
affair? And is not Reubon in a way to be coquetted, with his eyes
open? I rather think he erred in giving to the apology of Celeste any
other meaning than she literally expressed. Thus he might have
compelled her to be more explicit. On the other hand, if she did in
fact repent, and so suddenly, it would seem too harsh and fastidious
to shut the door against all treaty and negotiation. Upon the whole,
however, I conclude that if she wished, for any kind reason, to
retreat, she should have gone further, and held out something like
encouragement; in short, have met him half way. It may, I know, be
replied, that her habits of life and singular education forbid every
thing like advance; and that a lady may always presume that her lover,
if sincere, will seize the slightest ground for hope; and that, in the
logic of love, an equivocal refusal is assent. Certainly, this last
interview has been illy managed on the part of Reubon, but I have not
yet resolved what to advise. This is left open till morning, when
perhaps a word may be added.

Saturday morning.

From the state of things it is obvious that there can, at this hour,
be no new fact to communicate; but I have no longer any doubts as to
the meaning of the late scene, nor as to the line of conduct to be
pursued by Reubon. The note of Celeste is one of those trifling
incidents which are too small for calculation, which may have arisen
from the trifling motive assigned. Perhaps from a little spirit of
coquetry, perhaps a mere piece of sport. He shall, therefore, take no
further notice of it; not even to go out this morning to see her, as
he had solicited and engaged; and, when he shall next meet her, make
some slight apology. Thus the thing is settled.

A. BURR.



TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, June 12, 1803.

I am weary, and so must you be, of this story of Reubon and Celeste.
It is, however, closed, and you will, after this letter, hear no more
of it.

Reubon agreed to comport himself in the manner advised in my last.
Immediately after this determination, Celeste sent a servant to inform
him that she was in town! He called to see her; returned the offensive
letter, and told her that, as he understood that it was the manner and
not the substance of the letter which had induced her to recall it, it
would be quite unnecessary for her to take the trouble of writing
another. They talked of indifferent matters. Reubon, quite at ease,
played the man of the world, and, in my opinion, the man of sense.
Before they parted, her face was flushed like a full-blown rose. She
begged his permission to destroy the letter, which was certainly a
very useless request, considering that the letter was wholly in her
power. During the interview, Celeste, having no roses to occupy her
hands, twisted off two corners of a pocket-handkerchief.

This reference (the law business), of which I informed you something,
has become extremely troublesome and disagreeable. I am apprehensive
that it will detain me here nearly the whole of this week.

Binny looks remarkably well, and talks much about you. Dennis and
wife, from Savannah, are here. _Madame est toujours belle_. I can't
express to you my impatience to be with you, your husband, and little
one. Truly I think with horror of passing five days more here. Pray
form no plans of distant rides until my return.

A. BURR.



FROM THEODOSIA.

New-York, June 14, 1803.

As to Celeste, _voila mon_ opinion. She meant, from the beginning, to
say that awful word--_yes_; but not choosing to say it immediately,
she told you that _you_ had furnished her with arguments against
matrimony, which in French means, Please, sir, to persuade me out of
them again. But you took it as a plump refusal, and walked off. She
called you back. What more could she do? I would have seen you to
Japan before I should have done so much. I still, however, like your
plan. My opinion is not, perhaps, well founded, and it is best to be
on the safe side. If she is determined to be kind, she will find out a
way of expressing it, or she is not worth having. I am quite pleased
with her, and am waiting the arrival of the mail with the utmost
impatience.

"Treasure" is well, notwithstanding all predictions on my folly in his
dress. You must be home for my birthday, (the 20th inst.), or I'll
never forgive you; or, rather, I shall not spend it pleasantly.

THEODOSIA



TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, June 16, 1803.

No letter by this mail; being the fourth omission and violation of
promise since the 1st inst.

The birthday must be kept. It shall be "honoured by my presence." You
will therefore make your preparations, and, among other articles for
your feast or party, I recommend two fiddlers, not barbecued or
roasted, but _en plein vie_.

If this should be received on Friday morning, in season to be answered
by that day's mail, I beg to have a line from you, if only a _bon
jour_; after which, no more letters can be received. You shall not
have any distant parties or jaunts until I can partake. I am even
jealous of the Fort Washington tour. Indeed, you can't go there
without me, for no one can so well show you the ground.

If Mr. Kane and his wife (late Miss Clarke) should be in town, pray
call on them immediately, and make them and the sister of the party.
Recollect they have many claims to your civilities. His sister, Mrs.
Thomas Morris, was very kind to you at Genesee. Mr. Kane himself
overwhelmed us with good offices on a certain occasion at Albany, and
the frequent hospitalities of John Innes Clarke can never be
forgotten. Be prompt, therefore, and courteous.

A. BURR.



FROM THEODOSIA.

Ballston, July 20, 1803.

Behold us, _cher pere_, at this fountain of health; and now my only
wish is to leave it as soon as possible. On arriving here we found
that your letter to H. Walton had not been received; but we have been
very fortunate in getting a house entirely to ourselves, and one quite
as pleasantly situated as that you mentioned. Mr. Walton has been
extremely polite to us. We dined there on Monday, and in the evening
went to a ball, which surpassed my expectations in brilliancy. I
danced twice, but I am unable to tell you whether I looked well or
danced well; for you are the only person in the world who says any
thing to me about my appearance. Mari generally looks pleased, but
rarely makes remarks. On my return, therefore, I wished for you to
learn some account of myself; for vanity and diffidence had a combat
in which each so well maintained its ground that the affair is still
left undecided.

General Smith and family are here. Never was ennui more strongly
depicted than in the countenance of madame and sister. They appear
absolutely bereft of every thing like exertion. Mr. -----, on the
contrary, while he owns that this is not one of the most pleasant
places he has ever seen, is still lively and agreeable. Such are the
baneful effects of our education. Put out of our usual sphere of
acquaintance, or the old routine of amusement and occupation, we
rarely have knowledge of the world enough to discover any pleasant
qualification that may exist in a stranger, and to put it to any use
if it obtrude itself on our notice; and still less are we taught to
create amusements for ourselves.

The boy is pretty well, but I confess I have many doubts as to the
healthiness of this place for children. Every morning since our
arrival there has been a thick mist, which the sun does not disperse
till nine or ten o'clock. I kiss you with all my heart.

THEODOSIA.



FROM CHARLES BIDDLE.

Philadelphia, February 3, 1803.

DEAR SIR,

The business of New-Orleans is much talked of here. In my opinion, and
it is the opinion of many others, we should immediately take
possession, and then treat about it. We have no business to make
excuses for the conduct of the Spanish government, by saying that they
gave no orders to treat us in this manner. For my own part I do not
fear a war with France and Spain. We could do more injury to them than
they could do us. If we were at war with them, and Great Britain did
not join us, we should have our ports filled with their seamen, and
the coasts of France and Spain would soon swarm with our cruisers.

I remember, just before the commencement of the revolutionary war, my
mother was disputing with an English officer. He said the Americans,
of right, should not go to war; they could do nothing; they could get
no person to head them. She replied, that the Americans would have no
difficulty in finding some person to command their army; that she had
seven sons, and, if necessary, would lead them herself to oppose their
army. _Two_ of her sons fell during the war in the service of their
country. I have seven sons, whom I would much sooner lead to the field
than suffer our country to be insulted. Your friend,

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