God only knows what will become of me in
the business. Patience, Patience!
By the bye, do you know a "Massachusetts Historical Society," and
a James Bowdoin, seemingly of Boston? In "Vol. II. third series"
of their _Collections,_ lately I met with a disappointment almost
ludicrous. Bowdoin, in a kind of dancing, embarrassed style,
gives long-winded, painfully minute account of certain precious
volumes, containing "Notes of the Long Parliament," which now
stand in the New York Library; poises them in his assaying
balance, speculates, prophesies, inquires concerning them: to me
it was like news of the lost Decades of Livy. Good Heavens, it
soon became manifest that these precious Volumes are nothing
whatever but a wretched broken old dead manuscript copy of part
of our printed _Commons Journals!_ printed since 1745, and known
to all barbers! If the Historical Society desired it, any Member
of Parliament could procure them the whole stock, _Lords and
Commons,_ a wheelbarrowful or more, with no cost but the
carriage. Every Member has the right to demand a copy, and few
do it, few will let such a mass cross their door-threshold! This
of Bowdoin's is a platitude of some magnitude.
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