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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Oh, begin at the very beginning," I said. "I want to hear it all." Then she began, hesitating a little at times over the variable chirography of my first amanuensis. I drew up my chair near to the grating, but before she had read two pages I asked her to stop for a moment.
"No one understands English but me but they are suspicious; be careful. What is your name?" "John Collins." "Comment?" said the French amanuensis, "John Co-lin. C'est bien; continuez." "What is your rank and in your Lodge?" "Common seaman master," answered Collins adroitly. "Comment?" said the party with his pen. "Matelot," replied the interpreter. "Demandez-lui le nom du batiment."
It was mere amanuensis work, penning at the dictation of his sarcastic demon. Was he a sybarite? Many a poor scribbler has earned bed and breakfast with numb fingers. The fire in his body would serve him for an hour or two. So he sat down, and achieved his task to the last syllable. He read it through, corrected it, made it up for post, and rose with the plaudits of conscience.
The process was as though Henry acted merely as the amanuensis of a great creative power concealed somewhere in the recesses of his vital parts.
The scraps which contained in writing the sayings of the dead Prophet were all collected by his chief amanuensis: his followers appointed three judges to overlook the work. The new collection was written in Mohammed's own pure Meccan dialect, and every spurious copy was burnt.
His favorite amanuensis was his sister Dorothy, a woman of fine gifts, to whom Wordsworth was indebted for some of his happiest inspirations. Her charming Memorials of a Tour in the Scottish Highlands records the origin of many of her brother's best poems. Throughout life Wordsworth was remarkably self-centered.
In Handel's later years it was the son who assisted him at the performances of the oratorios and acted as his musical amanuensis. There is a curious story of a quarrel which took place at Tunbridge Wells, about four years before Handel's death, between the two old men.
"Scarcely, at twenty three or four." He pursed a judicial lip. "Nor your sister?" "No." "Nor your wife?" "No." He flushed here, although he answered simply. "Nor your assistant in any way?" His face lighted suddenly. "Why not?" said he. "Can't you be my amanuensis, that sort of thing, you see? Come, we must think of this. This is where my conscience hurts me I can't bear to have my duty hurt you.
Go and cry up in your own room, and send Firkin to me no, stop, sit down and blow your nose, and leave off crying, and write a letter to Captain Crawley." Poor Briggs went and placed herself obediently at the writing-book. Its leaves were blotted all over with relics of the firm, strong, rapid handwriting of the spinster's late amanuensis, Mrs. Bute Crawley.
The parting of the ways, so soon reached by Serge and Masha, was in fact delayed in Tolstoy's own life by his wife's intelligent assistance in his literary work as an untiring amanuensis, and in the mutual anxieties and pleasures attending the care of a large family of young children. Wider horizons opened to his mental vision, his whole being was quickened and invigorated.
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