We observe one other autograph of a distinguished
soldier of the Revolution, Henry Knox, but written in 1791, when he was
Secretary of War. In its physical aspect, it is well worthy to be a
soldier's letter. The hand is large, round, and legible at a glance;
the lines far apart, and accurately equidistant; and the whole affair
looks not unlike a company of regular troops in marching order. The
signature has a point-like firmness and simplicity. It is a curious
observation, sustained by these autographs, though we know not how
generally correct, that Southern gentlemen are more addicted to a
flourish of the pen beneath their names, than those of the North.
And now we come to the men of a later generation, whose active life
reaches almost within the verge of present affairs; people of dignity,
no doubt, but whose characters have not acquired, either from time or
circumstances, the interest that can make their autographs valuable to
any but the collector. Those whom we have hitherto noticed were the men
of an heroic age. They are departed, and now so utterly departed, as
not even to touch upon the passing generation through the medium of
persons still in life, who can claim to have known them familiarly.
Their letters, therefore, come to us like material things out of the
hands of mighty shadows, long historical, and traditionary, and fit
companions for the sages and warriors of a thousand years ago.
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