Caxton's Book: A Collection of Essays, Poems, Tales, and Sketches.

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Caxton's Book: A Collection of Essays, Poems, Tales, and Sketches. Page 1

by W. H. Rhodes




  Produced by David Edwards, Christine Aldridge and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net(This file was made from images produced by the NorthCarolina History and Fiction Digital Library.)

  Transcriber's Notes:

  1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_.

  2. Words in Bold are surrounded by =equal= signs.

  3. Words in both Bold and Gothic Font are surrounded by bars and equalsigns |=text=|.

  4. Any footnotes in the original text have been placed directly underthe paragraph or passage containing their anchors.

  5. The following words with the [oe] ligature appeared in the originaltext: manoeuvre, Croesus, oesophagus. The ligature has been removed forthe purpose of this e-text.

  6. A list of minor punctuation and spelling error corrections is locatedat the end of this e-text.

  CAXTON'S BOOK:

  A COLLECTION OF

  ESSAYS, POEMS, TALES AND SKETCHES.

  BY THE LATEW. H. RHODES.

  _EDITED BY DANIEL O'CONNELL._

  SAN FRANCISCO:A. L. BANCROFT AND COMPANY.1876.

  Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876,BY SUSAN RHODES,In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D.C.

  SAN FRANCISCO:A. L. BANCROFT AND COMPANY,PRINTERS AND BINDERS.

  PREFACE.

  The sketches and poems in this volume were written at a time when theauthor was engaged in the practice of a laborious profession. It was theintention of Mr. Rhodes to collect them from the various newspapers andperiodicals in which they had appeared, and publish them in book-formwhenever he could obtain a respite from his arduous duties. But beforehe carried out his long-cherished object he died, in the prime of hismanhood and the ripeness of his literary life. Many of his poems werewritten for the monthly gatherings of the Bohemian Club. There, whenCaxton's name was announced, his literary friends thronged about him,confident of the rich treat the brain of their beloved poet had providedfor them. His wit was keen and sparkling, without a shade of malice; andmany an anecdote, that began with some delightful absurdity, closed in apathos that showed the great versatility of Caxton's genius. The Case ofSummerfield, which is perhaps the most ingenious of the tales in thatpeculiar vein, was widely copied and warmly praised for the originalityof its plan and the skill of its execution. The editor of this work hasobserved, as far as lay in his power, the intention of the author inthe selection of those compositions which Mr. Rhodes had put aside forcompilation. With such a mass and variety of material (for Caxton hadbeen a busy worker) it was difficult to select from productions all ofwhich were excellent. Few liberties have been taken with them; for,indeed, Caxton was himself so conscientious in the arrangement andcorrection of his manuscript, that, with the exception of some slightand unimportant alterations, this book goes before his friends and thepublic in the same order as the author would have chosen had he beenspared to perform the task.

  IN MEMORIAM.

  At the time when, according to custom, Mr. Rhodes's death was formallyannounced to the several Courts of Record in San Francisco, one of thelearned Judges urged the publication of his writings in some form whichwould give the bar a permanent memorial of one of it's most esteemedmembers, and to them their proper place in American literature. This hasbeen accomplished by the present volume. It is sincerely to be hopedthat while it will largely add to Mr. Rhodes's reputation, it may alsoserve to furnish a most interesting family some substantial aid in thestruggle with life, from which the beloved husband and tender father hasunhappily been removed.

  William Henry Rhodes was born July 16, 1822, in Windsor, North Carolina.His mother died when he was six years old, and his father, Col. E. A.Rhodes, sent him to Princeton, New Jersey, to be educated at the seat oflearning established there. Col. Rhodes was subsequently appointedUnited States Consul at Galveston, Texas, and without completing hiscollege course, the son followed his father to his new home. There hediligently pursued his studies. He found many young men like himself,ambitious and zealous in acquiring information, and these he associatedwith himself in literary and debating clubs, where the most importantmatters of natural science and political economy were discussed. Theeffect of this self-bestowed education was most marked. It remained withhim all his life. He was thoroughly versed in the political history ofthe country, and possessed an amount of knowledge concerning the career,motives and objects of politics, parties and public men, which, had heever chosen to embark in public life, would have made him distinguishedand successful. No one ever discussed with him the questions connectedwith the theory of our government without a thorough respect for thesincerity of his convictions, and the ability with which they weremaintained. He was, in theory, a thorough partisan of the Southernpolitical and constitutional school of ideas, and never abandoned them.But he advocated them without passion or apparent prejudice, and at alltimes shrunk from active connection with politics as a trade. He was anidealist in law, in science and government, and perhaps his earlytraining, self-imposed and self-contained, had much to do with hispeculiarities.

  In 1844, he entered Harvard Law School, where he remained for two years.Here, as at home among his young friends, he was a master-spirit andleader. He was an especial favorite of his instructors; was noted forhis studious and exemplary habits, while his genial and courteousmanners won the lasting friendship of his classmates and companions. Hisfondness for weaving the problems of science with fiction, which becameafterwards so marked a characteristic of his literary efforts, attractedthe especial attention of his professors; and had Mr. Rhodes devotedhimself to this then novel department of letters, he would have become,no doubt, greatly distinguished as a writer; and the great master ofscientific fiction, Jules Verne, would have found the field of hisefforts already sown and reaped by the young Southern student. But hisnecessities and parental choice, conspired to keep him at "the lawlessscience of the law;" and literature become an incident of life, ratherthan its end and aim. He never really loved the law. He rather lived byit than in it. He became a good lawyer, but was an unwillingpractitioner. He understood legal principles thoroughly. He loved thehigher lessons of truth and justice, of right and wrong, _fas et nefas_,which they illustrated; but he bent himself to the necessary details ofprofessional life--to the money-getting part of it--with a peculiar andconstantly increasing reluctance. The yoke of labor galled him, andalways more severely. An opportunity to speak and write what was mostpleasing to his taste, which set him free as a liberated prisoner ofthought, his untrammeled and wandering imagination extravagantlyinterweaving scientific principles, natural forces, and elemental facts,in some witch's dance of fancy, where he dissolved in its alchemy,earth, air and water, and created a world of his own, or destroyed thatbeneath his feet, was of more value to him, though it brought him nogain, than a stiff cause in courts which bound him to dry details ofweary facts and legal propositions, though every hour of his timebestowed a golden reward.

  His early professional life was passed in Galveston. He was measurablysuccessful in it, and won many friends by his gallant and chivalrousadvocacy of the causes intrusted to him. His personal popularityelevated him to a Probate Judgeship in Texas. This office he filled withhonor; and at the expiration of his term, he returned, after a briefsojourn in New York, to his native state and town, where he practicedhis profession until 1850. In this year he caught the inspiration ofadventure in the new El Dorado, and sailed for California. From thattime he continued a citizen of this State. He was widely known anduniversally respected. He practiced his profession with diligence; butmind and heart were invit
ing him to the life and career of a man ofletters; and he was every day sacrificed to duty, as he esteemed it. Hewas too conscientious to become indifferent to his clients' interests:but he had no ambition for distinction as a jurist. He was utterlyindifferent to the profits of his labors. He cared nothing for money, orfor those who possessed it. His real life and real enjoyments were of afar different sort; and his genius was perpetually bound to the altar,and sacrificed by a sense of obligation, and a pride which neverpermitted him to abandon the profession for which he was educated. Likemany another man of peculiar mental qualities, he distrusted himselfwhere he should have been most confident. The writer has often discussedwith Mr. Rhodes his professional and literary life, urged him to devotehimself to literature, and endeavored to point out to him the real roadto success. But he dreaded the venture; and like a swift-footed bloodedhorse, fit to run a course for a man's life, continued on his way,harnessed to a plow, and broke his heart in the harness!

  William Henry Rhodes will long be remembered by his contemporaries atthe Bar of California as a man of rare genius, exemplary habits, highhonor, and gentle manners, with wit and humor unexcelled. His writingsare illumined by powerful fancy, scientific knowledge, and a reasoningpower which gave to his most weird imaginations the similitude of truthand the apparel of facts. Nor did they, nor do they, do him justice. Hecould have accomplished far more had circumstances been propitious tohim. That they were not, is and will always be a source of regret. That,environed as he was, he achieved so much more than his fellows, has madehis friends always loyal to him while living, and fond in their memoriesof him when dead. We give his productions to the world withsatisfaction, not unmingled with regret that what is, is only the faintecho, the unfulfilled promise of what might have been. Still, may wesay, and ask those who read these sketches to say with us, as they laydown the volume: "_Habet enim justam venerationem, quicquid excellit._"

  W. H. L. B.

 

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