Here the printer and his helpers set type, pull proofs and correct their galleys, make up pages on the marble imposing stone, prepare paper and ink, run off the job on one or more of the presses, and finally, redistribute the type to the cases. The printed sheets, in the meantime, may have to be hung on ceiling racks to allow both ink and paper to dry out. In the small back shop, a separate building, the similarly cluttered bookbinding shop may be found. In it the bookbinder of today, working with the tools and methods of his eighteenth-century predecessors, sews together the printed and folded signatures that make a book, binds them in boards, and covers the boards—perhaps in elegantly decorated leather bindings. He may use marbled paper of his own making for end-papers or on the outer covers of smaller books. For tooling and lettering the cover he has a collection of brass dies, some of which are designed from lettering stamps excavated in the vicinity of his—and William Parks’s workshop. _OUR PRINTING HERITAGE_ From the crude presses of Williamsburg came an ingredient essential to the movement toward American self-government and independence—the political pamphlet. In the world of the eighteenth century, devoid of radio, television, or the bulky daily paper, the substance of political debate came from such pamphlets. It was also an era which took its political philosophy seriously, and the author of a pamphlet could count on wide readership among the planter-aristocrats who controlled the machinery of government. Williamsburg, as the colony’s capital and its political and intellectual center, was the obvious city to lend its imprint to the speculations of Virginia’s pamphleteers. One of the most significant early tracts was Richard Bland’s _An Inquiry into the Rights of the British Colonies_, printed by Alexander Purdie in March 1766. Writing in the aftermath of the previous year’s fiery Stamp Tax debates, Bland vigorously proclaimed his belief in Locke’s doctrines of natural rights and natural law. Reprinted in London, Bland’s tract was evidence of the mounting sentiment for self-rule in the colonies. Bland’s _Inquiry_ was also a memorial to its author, a man who devoted much of his life to public service. An aged delegate to Virginia’s first state legislature in October 1776, Bland collapsed in the Williamsburg streets on his way to a session, and died hours later in the home of his friend, John Tazewell.