After Print: Eighteenth-Century Manuscript Cultures

AFTER PRINT

After Print

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY MANUSCRIPT CULTURES

EDITED BY

Rachael Scarborough King

UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA PRESS

CHARLOTTESVILLE AND LONDON

University of Virginia Press

© 2020 by the Rector and Visitors of the University of Virginia

All rights reserved

First published 2020

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: King, Rachael Scarborough, editor.

Title: After print : eighteenth-century manuscript cultures / edited by Rachael Scarborough King.

Description: Charlottesville : University of Virginia Press, 2020. | This volume originated as a double panel at the 2014 Canadian Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies annual meeting in Montreal and as the conference ‘After Print: Manuscripts in the Eighteenth Century’ held at the University of California, Santa Barbara, on April 24, 2015—Acknowledgements. | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2019030032 (print) | LCCN 2019030033 (ebook) | ISBN 9780813943473 (hardcover ; acid-free paper) | ISBN 9780813943480 (paperback ; acid-free paper) | ISBN 9780813943497 (epub)

Subjects: LCSH: Manuscripts, English—History—18th century. | Manuscripts, English—History—17th century. | Manuscripts, English—History—19th century. | Printing—History. | Authorship—History. | Books and reading—History. | Codicology—Data processing. | Paratext—History. | Intermediality—History.

Classification: LCC Z105 .A29 2020 (print) | LCC Z105 (ebook) | DDC 091.09/033—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019030032

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019030033

Cover art: Spider from John Abbot, Aranea, ca. 1799 (courtesy of Hargrett Rare Book and Manuscript Library/University of Georgia Libraries); illustrated title page from Wordsworth’s Recollections of a Tour in Scotland by George Hutchinson (Wordsworth Trust, Dove Cottage, Cumbria); background by Tramont_ana/Shutterstock

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Introduction: The Multimedia Eighteenth Century

Part I. Coteries, Communities, Collaborations: Manuscript Publication

Pray for the Unworthy Scribbler: The Textual Cultures of Early Methodist Women

ANDREW O. WINCKLES

Collecting John Abbot’s Natural History Notes and Drawings

BETH FOWKES TOBIN

A Female Accomplishment? Femininity, Privacy, and Eighteenth-Century Letter-Writing Norms

RACHAEL SCARBOROUGH KING

Bookmaking and Archiving in Dorothy Wordsworth’s Notebooks

MICHELLE LEVY

Part II. The Manuscript-Print Interface

Paratextual Readers: Manuscript Verse in Printed Books of the Long Eighteenth Century

PHILIP S. PALMER

Mediating the Sudden & Surprising Revolution: Official Manuscript Newsletters and the Revolution of 1688

LEITH DAVIS

Manuscript, Print, and the Affective Turn: The Case of Frances Brooke’s The Old Maid

KATHRYN R. KING

Becoming Dr. Franklin: Benjamin Franklin’s Science, Manuscript Circulation, and Anti-Authorship in Print

COLIN T. RAMSEY

Part III. New Methods for Manuscript Studies

Amateur Manuscript Fiction in the Archives: An Introduction

EMILY C. FRIEDMAN

The Language of Notation and the Space of Manuscript Notebooks

COLLIN JENNINGS

The Circulation of John Keats’s Letters on Land, on Sea, Online

BRIAN REJACK

Cooking Hannah Woolley’s Printed Recipes from a Manuscript Recipe Book: UPenn Ms. Codex 785

MARISSA NICOSIA

Epilogue

MARGARET J. M. EZELL

Contributors

Index

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

THIS VOLUME originated as a double panel at the 2014 Canadian Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies (CSECS) annual meeting in Montreal and as the conference After Print: Manuscripts in the Eighteenth Century, held at the University of California, Santa Barbara (UCSB), on April 24, 2015. I am grateful to Andrew Bricker for suggesting and co-organizing the CSECS panels and to the Andrew W. Mellon Fellowship of Scholars in Critical Bibliography at Rare Book School and the UCSB Early Modern Center for supporting the conference, for which the UCSB College of Letters and Science also provided funding. Many thanks to the presenters and participants at the After Print conference, whose enthusiasm and expertise demonstrated a call for this collection. The RBS Mellon Fellowship provided the impetus and context for the conference and for this book, and I am grateful to Michael F. Suarez, Donna Sy, and Barbara Heritage for their advice and encouragement. The UCSB Academic Senate generously supported this work with a subvention toward the cost of publication. Finally, I thank Angie Hogan for her excellent editorial guidance and the two anonymous readers at the University of Virginia Press for their thoughtful, incisive readings.

AFTER PRINT

INTRODUCTION

The Multimedia Eighteenth Century

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY readers were frequently enjoined to put down their printed books and personally inspect manuscript documents to authenticate the works they were reading. In prefatory and self-reflexive comments, authors asserted the existence of handwritten originals whose material existence proved their claims. In his Review of May 30, 1704, Daniel Defoe noted of the sources of his printed news, The Originals of these and other Letters of this Nature, are left with the Printer of this Paper, for any Person to peruse that doubts the Truth of them.¹ Similarly, the table of contents for the Bee no. 22 listed "Copies of two Letters, the Originals of which, are left at the Publishers of the BEE, to be perused by the Curious, while in the dedicatory epistle to a volume of Alexander Pope’s correspondence, Edmund Curll noted, Beside, what is here presented to You, I have Several other very valuable Originals in my Custody.² In the 1770s, James Macpherson and Samuel Johnson battled over the existence of originals of the poems of Ossian, with Macpherson advertising that there is a design on foot to print the Originals, as soon as the translator shall have time to transcribe them for the press, while Johnson countered, Macpherson never in his life offered me the sight of any original or of any evidence of any kind.³ The originals" trope was so common that Henry Fielding used it to contribute to the satire in Shamela, with Parson Oliver writing to Parson Tickletext of Shamela’s letters, The Originals themselves are in my Hands, and shall be communicated to you, if you think proper to make them publick.⁴ Such ongoing references to handwritten texts existing alongside printed works encouraged readers to always be reading through the printed page, seeing it not as self-verifying but as drawing its authority from a manuscript source. Although it is impossible to ascertain the extent to which such originals actually existed or readers actually consulted them, the appeal to manuscript presumed the interdependence among media of publication.⁵

This interdependence is increasingly coming to the fore of scholarly considerations of eighteenth-century literature. Recent books have emphasized the interplay of media . . . and the porous boundaries between them, the co-existence of script and print, and the period’s attention to varieties of mediation: The eighteenth century saw the emergence of a sustained, self-conscious discourse questioning the effects of, and relationship between, different media forms.⁶ But while such works foreground the interaction of print with other media, they locate manuscript and orality under the rubric of print culture; as the Multigraph Collective’s Interacting with Print notes, Do not imagine, because we seek to look beyond print to other media, that we have given up on the idea of a print culture. Rather, we seek to formulate new ways of understanding the centrality of print in our period.⁷ The present volume concentrates instead on the medium of manuscript, understanding it as always in contact with other material forms but highlighting its unique affordances in the eighteenth-century literary landscape.⁸ As the new attention to the period’s multimodality is showing, eighteenth-century authors worked with a heightened awareness of conditions of mediation, and they self-consciously analyzed the relationships between form and content. Manuscript carried a range of meanings that writers and readers could activate: not only the site, as scholarship has often assumed, of privacy, femininity, and amateurism, it also offered accessibility, flexibility, interactivity, exclusivity, authority, timeliness, personalization, entry into print, and forms of publicity (in different contexts and not all at once). By taking into account the varied nature of manuscript writing, this volume therefore calls for media specificity and reveals the complex networks of the multimedia eighteenth century.

For despite the widespread adoption of D. F. McKenzie’s argument that forms effect meaning—and acknowledgment of what he later called the frankly diverse nature and persistive interaction of speech, writing, and print⁹—postmedieval literary scholars and book historians continue primarily to focus on printed materials and print culture. This default position is perhaps most evident in studies of the eighteenth century, which often stands as the endpoint for forms of manuscript literary circulation. By the age of Addison and Pope, it is assumed, print had become the dominant medium for public, professional authorship. George Justice pithily summarizes this position when he notes that the eighteenth century is a period in which the printing press and an attendant public sphere have conventionally been seen as overwhelming the quaint, semi-private circulation of literature in manuscript.¹⁰ Alvin Kernan provides this standard view when he argues that in the mid-eighteenth century an older system of polite or courtly letters . . . was swept away . . . and gradually replaced by a new print-based, market-centered, democratic literary system, adding that print destroyed the old oral and manuscript culture.¹¹ Studies of manuscript practices and cultures have tended to highlight medieval production and to end in the seventeenth century: Brill’s Library of the Written Word series for The Manuscript World covers antiquity to the Renaissance, the journals Manuscript Studies and English Manuscript Studies 1100–1700 end in the early modern period, and the annual Saint Louis Conference on Manuscript Studies restricts papers to medieval and Renaissance topics.¹² This periodization in effect denies the possibility of eighteenth-century manuscript studies. It presumes that, by the eighteenth century, manuscript publication was an effect of inability rather than choice—restricted to women and bad authors—or an aristocratic holdover related to the stigma of print for the upper classes.¹³

But as our ongoing lived experience of the technological multiplicities of the digital age enables us to look with fresh eyes at past eras of media shift, scholars are turning to the nonprint forms of composition, circulation, and publication that remained central to social, professional, and literary life in the eighteenth century. The essays in this volume show how essential handwritten texts were to eighteenth-century literature, politics, religion, business, and everyday life—so central that they are at times, paradoxically, almost invisible because they were taken for granted by contemporaries. It takes a concerted, collaborative effort to draw out the range of ways manuscript production remained effective, both on its own and in relation to other media. Together, the authors in After Print establish how writers and readers continued to rely on responsive handwritten and hybrid communications during the expansion of print, and they challenge the understanding of the eighteenth century as a print culture. In genres from journals and commonplace books to letters, scientific notes, poems, and novels, manuscript offered attractive alternatives to print publication. At the most basic level, printing rested on a manuscript foundation, since copies were delivered to printers in handwritten form; as printing expanded in the eighteenth century, so did printed texts that required the addition of script such as blanks, errata sheets, and penmanship manuals. For everyday readers and writers, it may not have been apparent that print was becoming the dominant medium of textual production; to the contrary, critiques continued to emphasize print’s suspect anonymity and impersonal nature. Eighteenth-century manuscript practices were notable for their variety and vitality, and for their self-awareness about the processes of mediation. This volume thus argues for both the centrality and the diversity of manuscript practices from the Restoration through at least the Romantic period—attempting throughout not to assign an expiry date to manuscript culture—and for a critical stance that questions the solidity of the print-manuscript hierarchy. The constant interactions between media and continuance of an autonomous sphere of handwritten production demonstrate how manuscript did not die out but, rather, may have been revitalized by the advent of printing, as writing elicited more and more writing. This reorientation both offers a clearer picture of the conditions for eighteenth-century literature and has insights for our own moment of protracted media shift, as it highlights aggregate, iterative steps rather than a single revolution.

As the first book to survey eighteenth-century manuscript cultures, After Print challenges the predominance of print by drawing together recent trends in book history, media studies, bibliography, the digital humanities, and eighteenth-century literature. The material turn has been particularly pronounced in eighteenth-century studies, where scholars have revisited the rise narratives central to the period’s understanding of itself—the rise of the novel, of the middle class, of the individual, of print—in light of the new textual formats that proliferated in the period. Scholarly attention to noncanonical and ephemeral genres, particularly in the growing prominence of periodical studies, emphasizes the many channels beyond the codex by which information and entertainment reached readers. Such attention necessarily means noticing the lack of clear borders not only between books and non-books, but also among methods of book production, as we encounter codices filled with marginalia, written and printed materials bound up together, printed forms that required completion by hand, and manuscript documents that provided the basis for printed works. Concurrently, the importance of digital databases, especially Early English Books Online (EEBO) and Eighteenth-Century Collections Online (ECCO), has both offered scholars easy (if institutionally restricted) access to a wider range of print materials and highlighted the frequent need to view such works in physical rather than digital form, where features such as size, paper quality, marginalia, and coloring are difficult or impossible to ascertain and where words and images are often missing or illegible due to poor digitization. This expanded range of topics and objects has sent many scholars back to archives, where they encounter manuscript and mixed-media materials that challenge the print-centric orientation of eighteenth-century studies. Taken together, such efforts are offering a new picture of the eighteenth-century mediascape, revealing persistent fluidity and negotiation rather than a steady rise of print.

A turn to eighteenth-century manuscripts thus builds on the insights of influential scholars of early modern writing. Harold Love and Margaret J. M. Ezell, the latter a contributor to this volume, each has offered persuasive and comprehensive arguments for the continued significance of manuscript circulation to professional literary and scientific writing through the seventeenth century.¹⁴ Love and Ezell use the term publication, now typically associated with printing, to refer to forms of manuscript authorship, and they note that a range of writers and readers—not only the aristocratic or female—preferred scribal publication for the ability to create communities of readers and to offer texts that were amendable and adaptable.¹⁵ As Ezell writes, For the majority of writers and readers in the period at the turn of the [eighteenth] century, literary authorship was still understood as an interactive, dynamic, and ongoing exchange.¹⁶ George Justice and Nathan Tinker’s edited collection Women’s Writing and the Circulation of Ideas: Manuscript Publication in England, 1550–1800, draws from Ezell’s work to show how, as Justice writes, the "decision to use manuscript rather than print publication resulted from a set of choices, made in positive terms for the most part. . . . Writers used manuscripts (or print technology, for that matter) because it [sic] suited their needs.¹⁷ Their volume’s focus on female writers, however, implies a special connection between manuscript and femininity. Betty Schellenberg’s in-depth study of a variety of literary coteries resists such gendering and shows how central scribal exchanges were to professional print production in the second half of the eighteenth century; as she writes, the trajectory over the period is one not of decline but of constantly shifting local equilibria between the coterie and the commercial print trade."¹⁸ Meanwhile, major studies of that print trade, such as Adrian Johns’s The Nature of the Book and James Raven’s The Business of Books, have shown how, in Raven’s words, the effects of print constituted no overnight revolution and change was relatively fitful.¹⁹ But while he notes that manuscript production and transmission, and the influence of scribal design continued for several centuries, his interest, like that of many book historians, lies in the development of the printed book market.²⁰ An approach that instead foregrounds the multiplicity of eighteenth-century manuscripts demonstrates, to return to Justice, not only that we need to ‘recover’ a practice that has been ‘lost,’ but also that it is perhaps even more important to change the lenses through which we understand literature in history.²¹ This means seeing manuscript cultures as in close correspondence with other media but, at the same time, not solely within the worldview of a dominant print culture. This volume takes as its subject manuscripts that came into existence after the rise of print while also looking beyond print to understand manuscript in its own context.

The kinds of scribal works that emerge from this viewpoint occupy coherent but overlapping media spheres. To begin with, there are the handwritten documents that were the stuff of everyday communication in the period. The eighteenth century has long been recognized as, in the words of Jürgen Habermas, the century of the letter, as the spread of literacy and standardization of the postal system made letter writing a more accessible activity.²² But as Amanda Gilroy and W. M. Verhoeven point out, Until quite recently, critical discourse has on the whole accepted female epistolary skill as a truth universally acknowledged, and has subscribed to the fiction of the feminine, private letter.²³ The letter, as a nonliterary genre that did not require extensive formal training, became associated with women and domesticity, a fact that has colored its representation in scholarship. But recent historicist studies of eighteenth-century letters have used extensive archival research to expand beyond a focus on women’s correspondence. Konstantin Dierks sees the letter as part of a culture of documents for eighteenth-century Britons and Americans, and he tracks commercial, political, bureaucratic, and personal letters—as well as commodities such as inkstands, paper, and desks—to show how letter writing offered a form of personal agency to a wide range of people. As he writes, Everywhere in the century was an infinity of letters; in an extraordinary growth of transatlantic commerce, just as in the waging of revolution and war. . . . By century’s end, that expansion of letter writing was proclaimed in public culture to be universal, routine, and fundamental to what then constituted ‘modern’ life.²⁴ Merchants sent bills and received payments by letter; the central task of the diplomat was to report news by letter to his supervisors in London; much of that news was incorporated into written newsletters and printed newspapers; the Royal Society sent scientific questionnaires through the post, read correspondence aloud at its meetings, and printed letters in its Philosophical Transactions. Eve Tavor Bannet argues that eighteenth-century commentary on letters highlighted all of these media states and in doing so taught users to conceive of ‘the letter’ as a genre that could easily, even indifferently, present itself in a variety of oral, written or printed modes.²⁵ In this volume, Andrew O. Winckles, Brian Rejack, and I track disparate collections of letters used for crisscrossing personal, political, literary, and intimate purposes, while Emily C. Friedman collects never-printed manuscript novels—some of them epistolary—that displayed differing approaches to publication. The ubiquity of letters across public and private realms meant that, on the level of everyday practice, readers and writers were surrounded by handwritten documents, which drew connections to several media of communication.

A similar interest in dismantling the boundaries between public and private spheres—and the association of each with print and manuscript, respectively—extends to scholarly consideration of other handwritten texts. Donald H. Reiman has identified three categories of modern manuscripts—the private, the confidential, and the public—that correspond mainly to the author’s conception of his or her audience.²⁶ But many, if not most (if not all), manuscripts crossed such boundaries, and readers both in the past and today have habitually ignored writers’ intentions as to audience. The kinds of practices that Love has identified as scribal publication, the act of making available texts in handwritten copies within a culture which had developed sophisticated means of generating and transmitting such copies such as coterie circulation, recopying, and epistolary transmission, remained widespread in the eighteenth century.²⁷ Both men and women were encouraged to keep commonplace books as scholarly and personal aids, and these were often collaborative works to be shared among and added to by family and friends.²⁸ Journals and diaries could also be semipublic documents. Frances Burney, for example, wrote long journal letters that circulated in manuscript among her sisters, friends, and father, and many of her most famous journal entries, such as those describing her mastectomy and her near-drowning in Devon, were written for commemorative purposes months or years after the events. James Boswell, likewise, shared journal entries with friends, an activity that his father censured but his idol Samuel Johnson sanctioned; at Johnson’s implicit request, Boswell’s Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides, documenting their joint trip to Scotland in 1773, remained in manuscript until after Johnson’s death in 1784.²⁹ In the realm of scientific and antiquarian journals, manuscript was the primary medium for the voluminous notes and fragments that scholars compiled, and one of the tasks of the scholar was to arrange his papers for posthumous collection in a library or museum, an act that constituted its own form of publication. The essays by Michelle Levy, Beth Fowkes Tobin, Collin Jennings, and Marissa Nicosia here explore the notebooks, scientific notes, and recipe books that abounded in the eighteenth century. In these and many other arenas, manuscript operated in a variety of public-facing ways.

In addition to such full manuscript works, the period saw a flourishing of documents and books that required or encouraged the mixing of script and print. The eighteenth century experienced a quantitative takeoff in the volume of print production, and this necessarily had an impact on the manuscript medium. The total number of imprints posted double-digit percentage increases in most decades between 1700 and 1800, with the sharpest jumps coming in the final third of the century.³⁰ At the beginning of the period, the post-1695 shift to newspaper and periodical publishing reconfigured the print marketplace. Dror Wahrman has named this the era of Print 2.0, arguing that the boom in periodical and ephemeral texts following the lapse of the Licensing Act constituted a new epoch in the print medium.³¹ But rather than subsuming manuscript texts, such changes likely led to a concomitant rise in written production. Periodicals, for example, began by requesting readers’ feedback in the form of letters to the editor; one of the first major successes of the genre was John Dunton’s Athenian Mercury, which presented lists of reader-supplied questions and the answers of the Athenian Society. In September 1691, a few months after beginning the project, Dunton called on his readers "to hold their Hands and Pens, and let us take Breath a while, and get rid of those CART-LOADS of Questions which are yet upon the File, and are likely to press us to death under their weight."³² Richard Steele, meanwhile, appealed in Tatler no. 7 for readers to send him letters by the Penny Post with material for publication, since, without such assistance, I frankly confess, and am sensible, that I have not a month’s wit more.³³ Collections of original letters sent to Steele as editor of the Tatler and Spectator remain at the British Library, showing that readers responded to the call. In this volume, essays by Leith Davis and Kathryn R. King explore the circular relationship between manuscript letters and printed essays in the seventeenth- and eighteenth-century periodical.

But it was not only that printed texts relied on manuscript bases; they also encouraged handwritten additions and responses. Peter Stallybrass has highlighted the importance of job printing to printers’ financial survival, arguing that legal forms, bank bills, and accounting ledgers were as central to the print revolution as Bibles and novels. These documents generally required the addition of handwriting to be complete, proving that printing has become the great means . . . of eliciting writing by hand.³⁴ William Sherman and Ann Blair have focused on textual marginalia as evidence of how actual consumers reacted to print.³⁵ Blair notes that such print-centric innovations as the errata list asked for readers to perfect the printed text, but many people went beyond the listed faults to revise grammar, usage, and matters of fact: By making corrections, readers completed the process of producing a text; despite the guidance of errata lists, readers had the last say, beyond the real control of either printer or author.³⁶ In addition, as the Multigraph Collective notes, manuscript works in this period began modeling themselves on print, creating new possibilities through intermediation; with manuscripts that circulated to the hundreds of copies and rare printed works that acquired an aura, the seemingly commonsensical difference between print and manuscript as technologies of writing proves far more slippery than our conventional analyses would have it.³⁷ The essays in this volume by Philip S. Palmer and Colin T. Ramsey show how readers altered their printed books and how authors in print positioned themselves vis-à-vis manuscript. From the manuscript copy delivered to the printer to the printed volume annotated by hand and the handwritten title page complete with colophon, the eighteenth-century takeoff in printing elicited a parallel spurt of manuscript production.

After Print thus pursues a methodology that considers both print and manuscript as continually contingent, in flux, and in conversation with each other. Adrian Johns’s influential argument that an association of print with fixity and authority was the result of hard work on the part of printers over centuries—that "the very identity of print itself has had to be made"—has had an ongoing impact on print studies, where scholars such as Paula McDowell, Andrew Piper, and Trish Loughran have paid careful attention to the particular, local circumstances of the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century print industry.³⁸ But the similarly evolving nature of manuscript cultures and interaction between printing and writing remain comparatively underexplored. Manuscript was not a static entity against which the modern form of print defined itself; rather, the two media were coproductive throughout the long and fitful quantitative rise in textual production that characterized the eighteenth-century print marketplace. To fully appreciate the nature of print in the eighteenth century, we must also have a solid understanding of the other media with which it was in conversation.

Scholars who take a media studies-informed approach to the period have offered models for considering diverse forms in conjunction. David McKitterick writes that a conceptual separation of print and manuscript followed a 350-year-long period of accommodation in which authors, printers, readers, and booksellers viewed both as forms of textual production that had similarities and differences.³⁹ McKitterick uses close bibliographical analysis to draw a large-scale framework: The new can only be understood by reference to the old, and different cultures and media must inevitably exist side by side. . . . In practice, each new technology does not replace the previous one. Rather, it augments it, and offers alternatives.⁴⁰ In a study of colonial New England, Matt Cohen turns his focus from printed publications to the publication event, defining ‘publication’ in its broad, seventeenth-century meaning (which included publicly posted or proclaimed information) and insisting on its performative elements. As he notes, Communication happens on a spectrum of media modes.⁴¹ Both Cohen and McKitterick build on the work of D. F. McKenzie, who argued that, for consumers, media tend to work in complementary, not competitive, ways: We did not stop speaking when we learned to write, nor writing when we learned to print, nor reading, writing, or printing when we entered the ‘electronic age.’⁴² Engaging methodologically with this seemingly obvious, but necessary, observation, the essays in After Print operate from an assumption of the complementarity, codependence, and integration of manuscript and print in the long eighteenth century. They follow texts across national borders, noting how both printed and written works traveled together via global postal and commercial routes. And they do not offer these studies as a prehistory of the rise of print. Instead, they assume that manuscript culture had no determined endpoint. As Paul Duguid has argued, a model of media history that resist[s] simple ideas of supercession . . . encourages richer investigation of those very genealogies supersession makes untraceable.⁴³ Through specific, in-depth attention to material texts and archival research, this volume establishes the imperative to view particular works and authors as part of an integrated and nonhierarchical multimedia environment.

Such an attitude toward eighteenth-century literature both draws from and has insights for our contemporary sense of media shift as it focuses on the intuitive, everyday accommodations that users make to new and old technologies. As we live through another supposedly revolutionary moment, the negotiations in progress among printed, digital, audio, video, and oral forms—when the death of print is repeatedly deferred, digital filters re-create the distortions of film, and social media platforms become archival repositories—provide us with an innate sense of the actual processes by which producers and consumers compare and contrast media. We thus approach the eighteenth century from another perspective after print, when the status of print culture is again in upheaval. This volume’s authors share an understanding of the eighteenth century as a period of prolonged, obsessive interest in writing, publication, and what we now call communications media, elaborating on John Guillory’s observation that "the concept of a medium of communication was absent but wanted for the several centuries prior to its appearance."⁴⁴ Scholars of present-day media have argued against a teleological model of development and in favor of an archeological approach that treats as more illuminating moments where things and situations were still in a state of flux, where the options for development in various directions were still wide open, where the future was conceivable as holding multifarious possibilities of technical and cultural solutions for constructing media worlds.⁴⁵ By viewing the eighteenth century through such a lens, After Print provides a clearer picture of the past and present moments, thus offering a new model for combining archival research with a media-history framework and textual interpretation.

ESSAY OUTLINES

The authors in this volume establish the imperative to view the print medium in the context of a holistic media environment at the same time that they explore specific moments of manuscript circulation from the late seventeenth century through the early nineteenth century. The book’s three sections follow the broad areas of interest within the study of manuscript cultures outlined earlier: manuscript publication, the print-manuscript interface, and new methodologies that explore a digital-manuscript interface. Rather than proceeding chronologically through the period, then, the volume’s organization allows for ongoing views of continuity and change in the uses of and reactions to handwritten documents; indeed, many of the essays span nonstandard periodizations as they examine the textual afterlives of particular works being remediated from manuscript into print, or vice versa—and into the digital medium today. In each section, the focus is on handwritten texts and practices, but these can never be isolated from the broader multimedia context of eighteenth-century literature and twenty-first century scholarship.

The essays in part 1 question the association of manuscript with amateur, domestic, and apolitical production. Andrew O. Winckles focuses on communal religious practices in the scribal productions of Methodist women from the mid-eighteenth century to the early nineteenth century, showing the centrality of manuscript memoirs and letters—including some that have been misleadingly archived and catalogued—to what has been understood as a print-centric religious revival. While the second-generation male leaders of the movement attempted to use print to shut down women’s preaching activities, women continued to successfully employ written and oral venues to publicize their spiritual experiences. Beth Fowkes Tobin looks to the arena of science and the development of natural history from the 1770s to the 1830s in the career of John Abbott, a naturalist who published his American nature prints thirty years before John Jacob Audubon but whose contributions are less well known because he remained in the field, the state of Georgia, instead of returning to London. Tobin finds the Enlightenment scientific emphasis on the collection of specimens and of the manuscript notes describing them conflicting with the growing print-focused concentration of natural history, even as Abbot’s thousands of manuscripts were highly valued and collected by professional naturalists into the nineteenth century.

Turning from influential scribal communities to key scribal genres, my essay opens a new view of one of the most examined eighteenth-century manuscript genres, the letter, to argue that close attention to archival correspondence undercuts conventional scholarly assumptions that the letter was a particularly private, feminine form. Looking at the correspondence circles surrounding two prominent diplomats, Charles Hanbury Williams and Henry Seymour Conway, I show how everyday letters subverted private-public and feminine-masculine epistolary norms. Michelle Levy uses another apparently intimate, personal form, the notebook—in this case, Dorothy Wordsworth’s—to demonstrate the continuation of sociable manuscript practices into the Romantic period. Examining the affordances of the notebook form in facilitating writing, drawing, pasting in, and collecting texts and images, Levy argues that Wordsworth’s notebooks were not solitary and inward-facing drafts but, rather, communal documents meant to be used and read by others. While the writings were not intended for print, extracts from the notebooks that circulated more widely contributed to Wordsworth developing a reputation as a writer during her own lifetime—but the twentieth-century remediation of the notebooks into print and particularly printed anthologies obscured their more sociable purposes. These essays reveal the continuation of what Love calls scribal publication and Ezell social authorship throughout the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth, showing how manuscript remained a preferred or necessary medium for many writers.

The essays in part 2 turn the spotlight on a theme that is also implicit in part 1: the intersection between manuscript and print media of production and publication in the long eighteenth century. Philip S. Palmer looks to print as a source of manuscript culture, identifying the genre of manuscript verse inscribed as paratext in printed books. By customizing books through adding commendatory verse, early modern readers were able to take on a number of roles, functioning simultaneously as writers, advertisers, and consumers. Manuscript also enabled readers to enter print publication themselves. Leith Davis and Kathryn R. King both look at the interaction between manuscript and print in periodical form. Davis shows Restoration-era news consumers relying on multimedia sources, in particular exploring how the formal features of the official manuscript newsletter worked in tandem with printed news sources to provide readers an account of the Revolution of 1688. King turns to affect theory to argue that the letters to the editor in a periodical such as Frances Brooke’s the Old Maid (1755–56) preserved some of the ethical and aesthetic features associated with the scribal medium, a set of conventions that she calls the script affect. The Old Maid’s community of reader-correspondents constituted a group of self-presented oddballs living outside of traditional conjugal family arrangements, who found voice through printed letters. Meanwhile, Colin T. Ramsey examines the print-centric narrative of American revolutionary politics, focusing on the scientific activities of Benjamin Franklin to reveal that it was necessary for that avatar of print culture to engage in traditional scribal, and in many ways anti-print, practices of scientific exchange for his work to be taken seriously. While Franklin printed widely, it was only by first circulating his theories on electricity in correspondence with noted English scientists, and by disavowing his desire to publish in the preface to the printed version, that his Experiments and Observations on Electricity, Made at Philadelphia (1751) earned him entry to the Royal Society. As these essays show, even as the print marketplace expanded in the eighteenth century, readers expected printed