Journals of Two Expeditions of Discovery in North-West and Western Australia Vol. 1 is a work by George Grey. Grey was a British soldier, voyager, colonial administrator and author. Excerpt: "This morning directly after breakfast I read prayers to the men, and then commenced my preparations for the excursion on which I intended to start in the evening. Whilst I was occupied in arranging my papers Mr. Lushington observed two natives sitting on the rocks on the top of the cliffs which overlooked the valley, and gazing down intently on us. The instant that he made friendly signs to them they rose from their seats and began to retreat. Some of the party then called to them and one of the natives answered; but they still moved rapidly away. I would not allow them to be followed for fear of increasing their alarm, and in the hope that they would return, but was disappointed. It must have awakened strange feelings in the breast of these two savages, who could never before have seen civilized man, thus to have sat spectators and overlookers of the every action of such incomprehensible beings as we must have appeared; and the relation to their comrades of the wonders they had witnessed could not have been to them a whit less marvellous than the tales of the grey-headed Irish peasant, when he recounts the freaks of the fairies, "whose midnight revels by the forest side or fountain" he has watched intently from some shrub-clad hill."

The following pages contain the results of the author's travels and residence in the western parts of Australia, between the years 1837 and 1840, during which period he traversed extensive regions unknown to the European traveler, and probably never before trodden by the foot of civilized man. It is not alone with gratification of enlightened curiosity that the countries now first brought to notice are likely to be objects of interest. A knowledge of the districts lying between Swan River and Shark Bay cannot but be of importance to future colonists, whilst the intertropical provinces of the north-west coasts, distinguished as they are by important peculiarities both of character and position, are equally calculated to draw the attention of the literary and enterprising enquirer.

The body is increasingly understood as being at the centre of colonial and post-colonial relationships and textual productions. Creating and circulating images of the undisciplined body of the 'other' was and is a critical aspect of colonialism. Likewise, resistance to colonial practices was also frequently corporeal, with indigenous peoples appropriating, parodying, and subverting those European practices which were used to signify the 'civilized' status of the colonizing body. The Body in the Library reads representations of the corporeal in texts of empire; case studies include: • gendered representations of corporeality • medical régimes • ethnography and photography in the Pacific • cultural transvestism in theatre • disease and colonial knowledge generation • 'freak shows' and colonial exhibits • cinematic representations of bodies • geography and the metaphorization of land as a penetrable body • marketing the body • organ transplants and the limits of the post-colonial paradigm In viewing colonialism and resistance as a bodily phenomenon, The Body in the Library enables new perspectives on the process of colonization and resistance. It is an important resource for teachers and students of colonial and post-colonial literatures.

'I Hope I Don't Intrude' takes its title from the catch-phrase of the eponymous hero of the 1825 play Paul Pry, which was an immense success on the London stage and then rapidly in New York and around the English-speaking world. It tackles the complex, multi-faceted subject of privacy in nineteenth-century Britain by examining the way in which the tropes, language, and imagery of the play entered public discourse about privacy in the rest of the century. The volume is not just an account of a play, or of late Georgian and Victorian theatre. Rather it is a history of privacy, showing how the play resonated through Victorian society and revealed its concerns over personal and state secrecy, celebrity, gossip and scandal, postal espionage, virtual privacy, the idea of intimacy, and the evolution of public and private spheres. After 1825 the overly inquisitive figure of Paul Pry appeared everywhere - in songs, stories, and newspapers, and on everything from buttons and Staffordshire pottery to pubs, ships, and stagecoaches - and 'Paul-Prying' rapidly entered the language. 'I Hope I Don't Intrude' is an innovative kind of social history, using rich archival research to trace this cultural artefact through every aspect of its consumer context, and using its meanings to interrogate the largely hidden history of privacy in a period of major transformations in the role of the home, mass communication (particularly the new letter post, which delivered private messages through a public service), and the state. In vivid and entertaining detail, including many illustrations, David Vincent presents the most thorough account yet attempted of a recreational event in an era which saw a decisive shift in consumer markets. His study casts fresh light on the perennial tensions between curiosity and intrusion that were captured in Paul Pry and his catchphrase. Giving a new account of the communications revolution of the period, it re-evaluates the role of the state and the market in creating a new regime of privacy. And its critique of the concept and practice of surveillance looks forward to twenty-first-century concerns about the invasion of privacy through new technologies.