Aristocracy. An epic poem. : [One line in Latin]

Aristocracy. An epic poem. : [One line in Latin]

Table of contents

Title page

PREFACE.

ARISTOCRACY.

BOOK FIRST.

§

§

[Page]

[Page]

ARISTOCRACY. An Epic Poem.

—DE BELLARE SUPERBOS.

PHILADELPHIA: PRINTED FOR THE EDITOR. 1795.

PREFACE.

[Page]

AT a time like the present, when the Liberties of the People are in danger; when the executive and legislative powers have united to denounce the POPULAR SOCIETIES; and when there is great reason to fear that the supiness of the friends of Liberty will enable its enemies to accomplish its destruction; it behoves every lover of his country, every advocate for the equal rights of man, to awake from the dream of delusive security, and exert every energy of his nature, to enlighten and preserve his fellow-citizens.

The DEMOCRATIC SOCIETIES have been stigmatized with the opprobrious epithets of Anarchists and Disorganizers; they have been loudly rated as wanting in political knowledge, and destitute of integrity; and the public has been earnestly called upon, not to consider them with the eye of friendliness and approbation, but with the determined frown of indignation and contempt.

An enquiry naturally arises here—What have these people done? Wherefore are we required to suspect or detest them? It would be out of place, were I here to enter into a formal justification of their principles and conduct; neither do I design it. It must be left to time, and to the unbiassed judgment of future generations, to determine candidly on this great question.

But whether the Democratic Societies have, or have not, been successful in the demonstration; there can be no doubt, in the mind of every intelligent observer of the condition of our country, that a dangerous Coalition exists (actively, if not formally) to destroy the general influence of the people; or, at least, so to modify it, as may be most advantageous to the personal aggrandisement of the Coalition.

Those who are best acquainted with the history of these States, as well while under the authority and controul of Great Britain, as since the acknowledgement of their independence, have not failed to observe that this spirit of Aristocracy has manifested itself in various ways, and under very various forms, at different times.

[Page] The design of the British Ministry, beyond dispute, was to establish the political and religious supremacy of their country over ours. A plan was undoubtedly in agitation to saddle us with an hereditary nobility; and a sufficient number of right reverend bigots was to be distributed among us, who might wield the weapons of opinion in support of that power which gave them being, and maintained them in the enjoyment of its advantages. The revolution disconcerted these measures. But though, for awhile, it prevented any attempts to carry them into execution, it did not destroy that secret longing which had been excited by the artifices of the vile instruments of the mother country.

It might be dangerous, and it certainly would be imprudent, to develope the secrets of all succeeding attempts. These, fortunately for America, have hitherto failed of success. GOD grant that all future similar designs may be equally ineffectual! The surest means of causing them to be so, is, early to alarm the public mind concerning all men and all motions which appear to aim at the establishment of an undue influence in the hands of any particular description of citizens; and (the Honourable Legislator will pardon me if I misapply his words) ‘gibbet them to public detestation.’ This is the more necessary, as it is impossible to determine to what excesses even that assumption of power, which is apparently most innocent, may lead those who exercise it: and, as there is reason to fear, there are those in exalted stations who would gladly sing "the ditty of Republicanism," in derision, at the funeral of LIBERTY.

My enquiries have led me to examine, with more than common attention, the subject of Policy, especially the policy of the United States: and this, because it appears evident to me, that, hitherto, our government is only a government of expedients; and that the great principle, by which the complicated affairs of this vast continent are to be directed, is not yet discovered. To this end, the most exact scrutiny has been made into the history, manners, circumstances, &c. of this country; and, above all, into the characters and situations of those persons who have at different periods taken the lead in civil, social, military, and political life, throughout the several States. It was in the course of this scrutiny that the following POEM (the first Book of which is now given to the public) fell into my hands.

The Author of this work was, as acknowledged therein, concerned in one of those plots against the liberties of the people, of which I have taken notice; and, I have good reason to believe, [Page]more deeply implicated in it than he assumes to be in the Poem. At any rate, he was the confidential friend of the man most active in its promotion. To the furtherance of this scheme, not Americans only, but Foreigners also, were associated; and all their projects were dear being carried into effect, by the assistance of a number of Foreign Envoys—three, in particular—though but one (probably for poetical reasons) is taken notice of in the Poem. The causes of their failure are exhibited at large in the work itself.

The Author submitted in silence to the demolition of his hopes; and solaced himself by composing this Poem at his country-seat, whither he had retired, and where he died a few years since,—with the reputation of a great Patriot! The manuscript, which probably was never intended for publication, at length passed into my hands. Hitherto I have kept it (even from the knowledge of my most intimate friends), together with copies in his own handwriting of a few of the Author's original letters, as a precious evidence of the factious designs of certain aspiring characters in our country; and nothing but our present alarming situation could have induced me to make it public, while so many of the personages commemorated in it are yet alive. But the lust of power, when once excited, however it may be repressed for a time, can never be extinguished but with life. And when I see the same spirit, which has been so often subdued, again starting into action—and my countrymen again likely to become its victims—I should be wanting in that patriotism by which I profess ever to be guided, were I to be deterred by fear of any man, however exalted in station, from making every possible exertion in their behalf.

The publication of this Poem, at this time, appeared to me to promise some advantage to the general cause of Liberty. It may awaken some attention to our present condition; and, by shewing (even under the guise of interested praise) the means which have been used to acquire undue consideration and power, teach my fellow-citizens to look warily about them, and see whether like designs are not now forming, and whether they ought not to be on their guard. It may serve to ‘counteract certain political heresies,’—I repeat it again, ‘certain political heresies—which have sprung up among us.’ And it may excite them to a recollection, that ARISTOCRACY has ever imposed itself upon the necks of all former Republics, till, by its increasing weight, it has sunk them in slavery; and rouse into action that energy of Freemen, always superior to the force of Oppression.

[Page] In respect to the literary merit of the Poem, it is probable the opinions of men will differ, as their own prejudices and wishes are exposed or flattered. I shall attempt no vindication of it in a critical point of view. But I ought to exculpate the Author from one charge, to which he may, in the opinions of those who do not read attentively, have exposed himself: I mean that of self-vilification.

It is observable that the writer every where represents himself and his friends as influenced solely by self-interest: and it may seem improbable that such a confession should proceed from any one who was really so influenced. The following extract of a letter, by the same hand, will determine the Author's own opinion on this question. The letter is written to the friend here celebrated under the name of ARISTUS, and bears date November, 1786.

‘Let others think as they please: we, who have such ample experience, have long since discredited the dream of disinterested benevolence. Surely no dispute can be more ridiculous than those which have arisen on this subject, unless it should be those respecting the propriety of employing (what are called) iniquitous means to obtain a good end. Opinions of this sort are well enough to amuse the vulgar; and to be played off on those weak, but well-designing men, who must have Scripture for every thing they do.’ And, in another letter to the same person, he says—‘In the prosecution of this design, I have no doubt of your inflexible adherence to that maxim which has so long been the governing rule of our actions, That if the END is desirable, we are not to hold question respecting the MEANS. Our motto should be RESPICE FINEM, but not in the sense of the Philosopher.’

A more serious objection seems to lie against the machinery of the Poet. Nor do I know of any justification of it, other than by supposing it a mere play of the fancy: for it could not be meant by him to insinuate that the designs of his friend were infernal; and it is certain that the Author regarded Heaven and Hell, Providence and Futurity, equally fabulous as the theology of the Greeks or Hindoos, and alike the property of every dealer in rhyme—to be the elegant decorations of the Epopea, or the ponderous ornaments of the Sonnet.

Here, then, the Editor takes his leave, for the present, of the reader; assuring him, that, if this First Book of 'ARISTOCRACY' [Page]shall be esteemed of value, the remaining ones shall be presented to him with all convenient expedition. The Editor, indeed, designed at first to have published the entire work: but was deterred from so doing, by a fear lest its size would prevent that general circulation which might be secured by a less immediately expensive mode of publication.

PHILADELPHIA, January 5th, 1795.

N. B. The Notes are by the Editor.

ARISTOCRACY.

[Page]

BOOK FIRST.

INTRIGUES, and Heroes, whose unequall'd toil

Dar'd Freedom's progress many a year to foil;

For many a year Columbia's realm who bow'd,

Leading, metereous, the deluded crowd:

Illustrious Chiefs! who hop'd aloft to rise,

And shine distinguish'd in the people's eyes;

Themselves alone the helm of state to guide,

Floating triumphant o'er the subject tide:

Illustrious Chiefs! who sought the bliss divine,

In lordly pomp and titled pride to shine;

While, bent beneath their oligarchic sway,

Their native land should tremble and obey;

With those from European shores who came,

Brethren in toil, and partners of their fame:

What counsels led, what various means employ'd;

What foes they conquer'd, what success enjoy'd;

What Fates malign against their aims arose,

And bade, in sad despair, their labours close;

While grief and rev'rence all my soul inspire,

I sing, responsive to the mournful lyre.

Hail, hallow'd Sages! venerated Names!

Of war and peace, ye bright conducting flames!

Columbia's glory, Nature's pride and boast!

Though now deserted, desolate, and lost,

O may your fame o'er Time's dark rage prevail,

And your immortal compeers bid ye hail!

And may this verse, which bears to future days

That fame, receive a portion of your praise!

From one it flows, like you, who scorn'd to feel

Fraternal interest in the common weal;

[Page]

Like you, who strove distinction proud to gain,

Shar'd in your triumph, and divides your pain.

Hail, native stream! O ROWA, hail to thee!

Whose sweet wave winding seeks the neighb'ring sea;

Whose flow'ry banks the pastoral city claim,

Which proudly bears the Albion Virgin's name.

How chang'd the times, since, fill'd with youthful fires,

Ambitious thoughts, gay hopes, and warm desires,

With great ARISTUS I was wont to rove

(His earliest friend) through ev'ry skirting grove;

And on thy margin join in frolic play;

Or with the hook delude the finny prey;

Or, plunging in thy waters, joy'd to lave,

And breast with eager strife thy downward wave!

Alas! how little did each youngling mind

(To ev'ry brighter view alike inclin'd)

Foresee the sorrows which, in slumbers mild,

Portentous hung o'er each advancing child!

In all the sky of life, our searching eye

No danger saw, no mis'ry could descry.

Our sun of same ran on his glorious way,

And blest the nations with his setting ray.

We saw him scatter each contending fire,

To match his radiance that should dare aspire;

Nor sink, till, following his resplendent course,

His phoenix offspring rose with equal force.

Ah! dread deception!—fatal view obscure!

Illusive vision!—medium most impure!—

What clouds burst threat'ning from the frowning north!

What fearful flames, what thunders issue forth!

Wide o'er th' horizon see their volumes roll,

And Night tempestuous hangs o'er either pole.

Now, bent with grief, with disappointment worn,

I seek thy shore, O ROWA! most forlorn.

While great ARISTUS' lordlier soul obtains

On—bank some solace of his pains,

By thee, O melancholy Stream! my days

Shall slowly pass; while, catching notes of praise,

Drawn from my mournful, yet resounding lyre,

Thy echoing woods shall loftiest deeds inspire.

Yes, native Stream! by thee the song shall rise,

Which bears thy heroes to the distant skies:

Along thy margin shall ARISTUS' name

Re-echo'd reach its well-deserved fame;

[Page]

And ev'ry Chieftain's who, with him allied,

Fell in his cause, or struggled at his side.

What though Contempt and foul Derision join

To dim the lustre of their great design;

And Hate and Infamy, united, shed

Their sickly dews on each illustrious head?

What though, like them, by ev'ry ill deprest,

Shame, grief, and anger fill the Poet's breast?

Yet shall his ardent and immortal lays

To future ages give their wond'rous praise:

And future ages shall exalt the song,

Which dares, in hallow'd strains, their praise prolong;

And ev'ry sage, and ev'ry youth, shall say—

"Such were the men who scorn'd the people's sway."*

Sinking, the Sun withdraws the lightsome day,

His slant beams trembling on the water play;

With dazzling lustre all the windows glow

Of yon high dome, which fronts the wave below;

Mild through the ambient wood the splendour streams,

And hills and thickets feel the level beams.

There great ARISTUS, fill'd with anxious cares,

Wanders absorpt, nor aught of pleasure shares.

His nobler mind aspires to nobler state,

And execrates the slow designs of Fate.

Down the slope way his path the hero takes,

And now the darkness of the vale he seeks:

Uneasy thoughts within his bosom rise,

And tears of indignation fill his eyes.

At length, with sorrowing, but resentful tones,

Burst forth, in sad soliloquy, his moans.

' What Fates disastrous all our labours thwart,

' The toils of Genius, and th' attempts of Art!

' In vain we strive, in vain our might essay,

' And see each promis'd aid our will obey;

' What strength soe'er, and blest events conjoin,

' Some Power adverse still foils the bold design.

' Fair plans are form'd, immense resources league;

' Prudence and passion, frankness and intrigue;

[Page]

' All parts in happiest unison progress;

' In ev'ry State we seem to meet success;

' The long-sought end within our reach appears;

' Secure, we give the idle wind our fears;

' Glowing with joy, extend th' expectant hand,

' And half secure the boon, the prize command;—

' When, unforeseen, some hidden strength prevails,

' Our prospects perish, and our project fails.

' Is there (which yet I question if there be)

' Some Power, exalted over Time and me?

' One who, with ev'ry wickedness at war,

' Still makes the virtuous his unceasing care;

' Supports their souls 'mid danger's fierce alarms,

' And guards them safe from sorrows and from harms?

' Who gives to Truth the blest reward of joy,

' And bids the arts of Vice its peace destroy?

' —No!—still be this of vulgar tongues the theme;

' Let Priests, and men priest-ridden, hug the dream:

' Nature alike her various bounty grants;

' With equal care supplies her children's wants,

' Whether, of Christian or of Pagan race,

' To Christ or Brahma they their tenets trace;

' Or whether, following their forefather's path,

' They bow to Moses' or Mohammed's faith.

' From action, not belief, their good they gain,

' And Industry and Art the prize obtain:

' Superior power from art superior flows;

' He best can govern men, the most who knows.

' Such are my thoughts—yet some mysterious power

' On all my noblest efforts seems to lour:

' Untoward Fate, or all-deciding Chance,

' Bids with slow steps my mighty schemes advance;

' And though, with Cunning, Industry conspires,

' Still damps, with long delay, my glorious fires.

' Of late, how vast the prospect rose to view,

' When last each chieftain to his post withdrew!

' When union'd councils promis'd bright success,

' And fav'ring Fortune seem'd to woo and bless!

' And now in order meet, and due array,

' Art after art commenc'd our bold display;

' Month following month new promises arose,

' Portentous omens to suspectless foes;

' Events unhop'd for came to aid our cause,

' And foil, in our behalf, opposing laws.

' Yet, ah! when flatt'ring thus our fortunes shone,

[Page]

' Their splendour lessen'd, from some cause unknown;

' And faint, and fainter now, alas! they fade,

' While frowning storms our fairest skies invade.

' Yet not entirely were the cause o'erthrown,

' But every chief seems stupified to stone;

' Action, suspended, rests; one listless soul

' Throughout infests the wide and torpid whole:

' Else why, neglected, should events arise,

' Which, ably us'd, might near secure the prize?

' Events, which, moulded by our plastic care,

' Would all our worst disasters well repair.

' But does not Self each hero's bosom fire?

' And shall that vital spark, subdu'd, expire?

' Expire, while countless honours live to crown

' Its bold exertions with deserv'd renown?

' Yes, let the rich abjure, the poor despise;

' Tis Self alone which charms each mortal's eyes.

' By this prest on, we ev'ry danger dare,

' In peace that's hidden, or reveal'd in war.

' Still then shall men, with pride enormous, boast

' Of souls, to all but public welfare lost?

' And though in one dull course they onward move,

' Unsway'd by threaten'd wrath, or proffer'd love,

' The idle farce of Patriotism sustain,

' And bask in all the sunny light of gain?

' Fierce indignation rises in my breast

' When I behold their toils by Fortune blest:

' While we, who vary as each coming day

' In different forms shall public will display—

' And strive, beneath this mask of patriot zeal,

' Our proud aspiring wishes to conceal—

' Or yet, with shew of independent mind,

' Still find the bright reward before us fly,

' And rigid Fate each fond request deny.

' And such must be the curst estate of those

' Whose exaltation from the people flows;

' Who on their fickle voice for power depend;

' Servants to all, yet calling each a friend.

' But O when titled place, and gainful might,

' O'er a whole realm maintain usurped right,

' How blest the man who revels in the joy,

' With strength to make, and vigour to destroy!

[Page]

' And thanks be thine, O CUNNING! Goddess dear!

' If, though remote, for me such good appear.

' Yes, fond Presumption bids me hope, ere long,

' Aided by thee, to bend the vulgar throng;

' With titled friends, in pomp sublime, to move,

' And hold by Fear what now I gain by Love.

' For though self-interest all my actions sway,

' Nor other motive these my friends obey,

' Yet mutual interest here with pers'nal blends,

' And mutual aid subserves our private ends.

' Each seeks for power, yet each perceives how vain

' Would be the struggle, place or power to gain,

' Without the aid of others to procure,

' Without the aid of others to insure.

' Most fortunate in this my hopes appear;

' Blest be thy name, O CUNNING! Goddess dear!

' Where'er I look, dependents greet my view,

' Pow'rful to serve, to all my wishes true.

' Their friend I seem; I aid their petty suits;

' Yet draw, from all their toils, the noblest fruits:

' Nor most distinguish'd 'mid the mighty whole,

' Yet guide their force, and act the moving soul.

' But why, O why so languid and so slow?

' Why rage they not with action's fiercest glow?

' Now, when events so full of promise rise,

' And clothe in brighter hues our changeful skies?

' Alas! I fear some new-found motives sway

' To other schemes their selfish minds astray;

' Some fairer project leagues with adverse powers

' Those very souls the most engag'd in ours.'

' He paus'd, as lost in thought; then, lifting high

' His hand, while lightnings flash'd from either eye—

' By ev'ry Power of Hell (if such there are)

' And by my mightier, dearer Self, I swear!

' If once they swerve—from me no after aid

' Shall any gain; but, all their wiles display'd,

' Th' astonish'd people shall their purpose know,

' Though, lost, I sink beneath the whelming woe.'*

[Page]

Thus, prest with various cares, ARISTUS stray'd;

And now his footsteps sought the thicker shade,

Where deeper darkness reign'd, with stillness join'd,

Luring to gravest thought the anxious mind.

And now, where central fire and Night profound

In ten-fold horror lowest Hell surround,

' Mid Pan demonium's walls, in awful state,

High on a throne exalted, SATAN sate.

Around, in order meet, on either hand.

Powers and Dominions, Thrones and Princes stand:

Asphaltic lamps, with intermitting light,

(A sickly ray!) shot through encircling Night:

All were attentive:—when, in accents dread,

Shaking the sable horrors of his head,

The fearful silence thus the Monarch broke,

And Hell's unfathom'd caverns shudder'd as he spoke:—

' Tartarean Potentates, submissive hear!

' And you, ye tenants of the nether sphere!

' While, not unwilling, now your King unfolds

' The secret purpose which his bosom holds.

' Since, sprung from Chaos, self-supported stood

' The earth, and round it roll'd the subject flood,

' Ye know, O Powers! with what embitter'd rage,

' Gainst man, and his proud Maker, war we wage.

' How vast our triumphs, ev'ry fiend can tell,

' Who views the fiercely-flaming lakes of hell.

' Disease and Death we introduc'd, and made

' Unseemly sorrow Heaven's high courts invade;

' And, while his angels wept, man's overthrow

' Hung round th' ETERNAL's throne the gloom of woe;

' And (height of victory! our glory's crown!)

' Bade on the cross expire his lov'd, his only SON.

' Nor hence, in faith's and prophecy's despite,

' Around the globe has e'er declin'd my might.

' Beneath my yoke see Europe sinking low,

' And Asia stoop, and feeble Afric bow,

' O'er half the western world my sway extends,

' And, slowly yielding, now the other bends.

' This to promote, new projects now I frame:

' For this, attention to my voice I claim.

[Page]

' Wide spread o'er fair Columbia, cloth'd with power,

' And strength obtaining each swift passing hour,

' What names rever'd, subservient to my sway,

' Rise, and increase with each successive day!

' Long have I seen, with heart-distracting grief,

' That land to all distress'd extend relief;

' Seen sacred order ev'ry boon bestow,

' And drive far distant ev'ry threat'ning foe.

' I fear'd that there, indeed, at length would rise,

' Belov'd of men, and cherish'd by the SKIES,

' A mighty Empire, whose resistless force,

' The world involving in its spreading course,

' Beneath one plan would ev'ry State combine,

' The good of man their great, their sole design;

' And hence would flow wealth, liberty, and ease,

' And all earth hail the reign of moral peace.

' But, lo! to Hell more pleasant prospects shine,

' And fair Columbia hastens to be mine.

' Even now, immers'd in dark surrounding shade,

' ARISTUS roams, the spirit and the head.

' His mighty soul now labours to extend

' My spreading sway, himself my dearest friend:

' Rous'd by his arts, through each divided State,

' Obedient to his will, of influence great,

' At whose command the stubborn people move,

' Their power his union'd friends with zeal improve.

' And now, from Europe's shores, th' obedient wind

' Wafts to their aid, of no discordant mind,

' A chosen Chief:*—

' Even now his anchors bite the joyful strand,

' And, hark! the people welcome him to land:

' The thund'ring cannon from their ramparts roar,

' And shouts redoubled shake the trembling shore.

' And you, ye Powers! be 't yours with every art

' To gain fresh converts, and fresh aid impart;

' Assistant rumours and deceptions frame,

' And every soul with new-born rage inflame.

' And be ye faithful—for, by Hell I swear,

' What Power soe'er to thwart my will shall dare,

[Page]

' In fiercest league with Heaven's eternal ire

' The quenchless flames of Hades shall conspire

' To whelm the wretch; who, deep in rain hurl'd,

' Shall prove th' immeasurable wrath of either world.'

He ended threat'ning—and terrific struck

His trined spear against the flaming rock

Whereon his throne uprose. The Powers around

In wild dismay swift vanish'd at the sound:

All Hell with horror shudder'd—while a stream,

To Earth far shot, of pale sulphureous flame,

With momentary ray illum'd the shade

Where, lost in thought, the sad ARISTUS stray'd.

A secret hope quick fill'd his throbbing breast,

And homeward now with eager haste he prest:

For black and stormy Night around him roars,

And—'s billows thunder on his shores.*

END OF BOOK FIRST.

Notes

*

Our Poet follows the example of Horace, Ovid, and other great men, in prophesying great reputation to himself hereafter. How far this prediction of his may be true, we will not pretend to determine. That which relates to his heroes will be accomplished exactly at the period when the art of printing is forgotten, and the whole world subjected to a new feudal system.

↵

*

Every literary reader will admire the accuracy and taste with which our author has, in this speech of his hero, imitated the pure models of antiquity, and the most celebrated epic poets of modern ages. The striking turns of thought, and variations of passion, which appear throughout—even the very inconsistencies themselves of ARISTUS—indicate the most profound knowledge of the human heart, as well as a judgment formed according to the unadulterated rules of the anti [...]

↵

*

For an attempt to explain this circumstance, see Preface. The additional lines, descriptive of the joy of the people, firing of cannon, &c. must have existed only in the imagination of the Poet, since nothing of the kind did happen at the time referred to.

↵

*

Before the reader passes on to a future Book, it may be proper to remark,—That the commendations on the execution of this Poem are by no means meant as extended to the sentiments therein expressed. This, the Editor trusts, is sufficiently apparent from his Preface. Such exclamations of admiration as the author forces from us by the charms of his verse, may be passed over, without their being looked upon as any way implicating us in the villainy of the friends of ARISTUS And here it becomes us to give the author all due credit for the sublime use he has made of machinery so common as that of the infernal regions. But while the editor beholds it with wonder, he confesses his inability to explain the difficulty, which is apparent, in endeavouring to account for its particular application in this Poem, and by a professed friend of the heroes celebrated. Perhaps the reader will think some light is thrown upon this dark subject in the succeeding Books.

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Information about this book

Title statement

Aristocracy. An epic poem. : [One line in Latin]

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI :

Date

2012-01.

ID [DLPS]

N21447

ID [TCP]

N21447

ID [STC]

Evans 28171

ID [NOTIS]

APZ0673

ID [IMAGE-SET]

28171

ID [EVANS-CITATION]

99038293

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This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early American Imprints, 1639-1800 ; no. 28171.

Notes

(Evans-TCP ; no. N21447)

Transcribed from: (Readex Archive of Americana ; Early American Imprints, series I ; image set 28171)

Images scanned from Readex microprint and microform: (Early American imprints. First series ; no. 28171)

Source

— Aristocracy. An epic poem. : [One line in Latin], Alsop, Richard, 1761-1815., Humphreys, David, 1752-1818..

Extent

vii, [1], 9-16 p. ; 21 cm. (8vo)

Printed for the editor.,. Philadelphia: :: 1795.. (Caption title: Aristocracy. Book first.) (Tentatively attributed to Richard Alsop by Evans, who notes that there is much in the poems suggesting David Humphreys as author.) (Preface dated: January 5th, 1795.)

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The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.

Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.