"C. L." The following letter to Mr. Walter Wilson, who was composing a "Life of De Foe," in reply to inquiries on various points of the great novelist's history, is dated 24th Feb., 1823. TO MR. WALTER WILSON. on it, that's certain. Willy* shall be wel- so much better hands! Will Dr. W. accept come to a mince-pie, and a bout at com- of my respects at the end of a foolish letter? merce whenever he comes. He was in our eye. I am glad you liked my new year's speculations, everybody likes them, except the author of the 'Pleasures of Hope.' Disappointment attend him! How I like to be liked, and what I do to be liked! They flatter me in magazines, newspapers, and all the minor reviews; the Quarterlies hold aloof. But they must come into it in time, or their leaves be waste paper. Salute Trinity Library in my name. Two special things are worth seeing at Cambridge, a portrait of Cromwell, at Sydney, and a better of Dr. Harvey, (who found out that blood was red) at Dr. Davy's; you should see them. Coleridge is pretty well; I have not seen him, but hear often of him from Allsop, who sends me hares and pheasants twice a week; I can hardly take so fast as he gives. I have almost forgotten butcher's meat, as plebeian. Are you not glad the cold is gone? I find winters not so agreeable as they used to be 'when winter bleak had charms for me.' I cannot conjure up a kind similitude for those snowy flakes. Let them keep to twelfth cakes! "Dear W.,-I write that you may not think me neglectful, not that I have anything to say. In answer to your questions, it was at your house I saw an edition of 'Roxana,' the preface to which stated that the author had left out all that part of it which related to Roxana's daughter persisting in imagining herself to be so, in spite of the mother's denial, from certain hints she had picked up, and throwing herself continually in her mother's way (as Savage is said to have done in the way of his, prying in at windows to get a glimpse of her), and that it was by advice of Southern, who objected to the circumstances as being untrue, when the rest of the story was founded on fact; which shows S. to have been a stupid-ish fellow. The incidents so resemble Savage's story, that I taxed Godwin with taking Falkner from his life by Dr. Johnson. You should have the edition (if you have not parted with it), for I saw it never but at your place at the Mews' Gate, nor did I then read it to compare it with my own; only I know the daughter's curiosity is the best part of my “Mrs. P—————, our Cambridge friend, has been in town. You do not know the W's in Trumpington Street. They are capital people. Ask anybody you meet who is the biggest woman in Cambridge, and I'll hold you a wager they'll say Mrs. ; she broke down two benches in Trinity gardens, one on the confines of St. John's, which occasioned a litigation between the Societies as to re-Roxana.' The prologue you speak of was pairing it. In warm weather, she retires into an ice-cellar (literally !), and dates the returns of the years from a hot Thursday some twenty years back. She sits in a room with opposite doors and windows, to let in a thorough draught, which gives her slenderer friends tooth-aches. She is to be seen in the market every morning at ten cheapening fowls, which I observe the Cambridge poulterers are not sufficiently careful to stump. "Having now answered most of the points contained in your letter, let me end with assuring you of our very best kindness, and excuse Mary for not handling the pen on this occasion, especially as it has fallen into • Mr. Wordsworth's second son, then at the Charterhouse. mine, and so named, but not worth much. You ask me for two or three pages of verse. I have not written so much since you knew me. I am altogether prosaic. May be I may touch off a sonnet in time. I do not prefer Colonel Jack' to either 'Robinson Crusoe' or 'Roxana.' I only spoke of the beginning of it, his childish history. The rest is poor. I do not know anywhere any good character of De Foe besides what you mention.* I do not know that Swift men Those who wish to read an admirable character of De Foe, associated with the most valuable information respecting his personal history, should revert to an articie in the "Edinburgh Review" on De Foe, attributed to the author of the "Lives of the Statesmen of the Commonwealth," and of the delightful "Biography of Oliver Goldsmith," almost as charming as its subject. tions him; Pope does. I forget if D'Israeli "From my and your old compound." The following is the fragment of a letter addressed in the beginning of 1823 to Miss Hutchinson at Ramsgate whither she had gone with an invalid relative. TO MISS HUTCHINSON. iron one of the two that 'shuts amain '—and that is the reason I am locked up. Meanwhile of afternoons we pick up primroses at Dalston, and Mary corrects me when I call 'em cowslips. God bless you all, and pray, remember me euphoniously to Mr. G. That Lee Priory must be a dainty bower. Is it built of flints ?-and does it stand at Kingsgate ?" In this year, Lamb made his greatest essay in house-keeping, by occupying Colebrook Cottage at Islington, on the banks of his beloved New River. There occurred the immersion of George Dyer at noontide, which supplies the subject of one of "The Last Essays of Elia ;" and which is veritably related in the following letter of Lamb, which is curious, as containing the germ of that delightful article, and the first sketches of the Brandy-and-Water Doctor therein celebrated as miraculous. TO MRS. HAZLITT. "November, 1823. "Dear Mrs. H.,-Sitting down to write a letter is such a painful operation to Mary, that you must accept me as her proxy. You have seen our house. What I now tell you "April 25th, 1823. is literally true. Yesterday week, George Dyer "Dear Miss H.,—It gives me great pleasure called upon us, at one o'clock, (bright noon (the letter now begins) to hear that you got day) on his way to dine with Mrs. Barbauld, down so smoothly, and that Mrs. M's at Newington. He sat with Mary about half spirits are so good and enterprising. It shows an hour, and took leave. The maid saw him whatever her posture may be, that her mind go out, from her kitchen window, but sudat least is not supine. I hope the excursion denly losing sight of him, ran up in a fright will enable the former to keep pace with its to Mary. G. D., instead of keeping the slip outstripping neighbour. Pray present our that leads to the gate, had deliberately, staff kindest wishes to her and all; (that sentence in hand, in broad open day, marched into should properly have come into the Postscript, the New River. He had not his spectacles but we airy mercurial spirits, there is no on, and you know his absence. Who helped keeping us in). 'Time' (as was said of one him out, they can hardly tell, but between 'em of us) 'toils after us in vain.' I am afraid they got him out, drenched thro' and thro'. our co-visit with Coleridge was a dream. I A mob collected by that time, and accomshall not get away before the end (or middle) panied him in. 'Send for the Doctor!' they of June, and then you will be frog-hopping said: and a one-eyed fellow, dirty and drunk, at Boulogne; and besides, I think the was fetched from the public-house at the end, Gilmans would scarce trust him with us; I where it seems he lurks, for the sake of pickhave a malicious knack at cutting of apron- ing up water-practice; having formerly had strings. The Saints' days you speak of have a medal from the Humane Society, for some long since fled to heaven, with Astræa, and rescue. By his advice, the patient was put the cold piety of the age lacks fervour to between blankets; and when I came home recall them; only Peter left his key-the at four, to dinner, I found G. D. a-bed, and raving, light-headed, with the brandy-and principal as you mention; and the most water which the doctor had administered. graceful excuse for the acceptance, would be, He sung, laughed, whimpered, screamed, that it left you free to your voluntary babbled of guardian angels, would get up functions. That is the less light part of the and go home; but we kept him there by scruple. It has no darker shade. I put in force; and by next morning he departed sobered, and seems to have received no injury. All my friends are open-mouthed about having paling before the river, but I cannot see, because an absent man chooses to walk into a river, with his eyes open, at midday, I am any the more likely to be drowned in it, coming home at midnight. "I have had the honour of dining at the Mansion House, on Thursday last, by special card from the Lord Mayor, who never saw my face, nor I his; and all from being a writer in a magazine! The dinner costly, served on massy plate, champagne, pines, &c.; forty-seven present, among whom, the Chairman, and two other directors of the India Company. There's for you! and got away pretty sober! Quite saved my credit! "We continue to like our house prodigiously. Our kind remembrances to you and yours.-Yours truly, C. LAMB. darker, because of the ambiguity of the word light, which Donne in his admirable poem on the Metempsychosis, has so ingeniously illustrated in his invocation— 1 2 1 2 'Make my dark heary poem, light and light.' where two senses of light are opposed to dif- "I am pleased that H. liked my letter to Guinea. A fortiori there is less in 2000. the Laureate." Requested by the Quaker Poet, to advise him on a proposal for appropriating a large sum of money raised by a few admiring friends to his comfort in advancing years, Lamb gave his wise and genial judgment in the following letter TO BERNARD BARTON. "I therefore most sincerely congratulate with you, excepting so far as excepted above. If you have fair prospects of adding to the principal, cut the Bank; but in either case do not refuse an honest Service. Your heart tells you it is not offered to bribe you from any duty, but to a duty which you feel to be your vocation. Farewell heartily. "C. L." The following, with its grotesque sketches, is addressed also TO BERNARD BARTON. "March 24th, 1824. "Dear B. B.,-I hasten to say that if my opinion can strengthen you in your choice, it is decisive for your acceptance of what has been "December 1st, 1824. so handsomely offer'd. I can see nothing in- "Dear B. B.,-If Mr. Mitford will send jurious to your most honourable sense. me a full and circumstantial description of Think that you are called to a poetical his desired vases, I will transmit the same Ministry-nothing worse-the Minister is to a gentleman resident at Canton, whom I worthy of the hire.-The only objection I feel is founded on a fear that the acceptance may be a temptation to you to let fall the bone (hard as it is) which is in your mouth and must afford tolerable pickings, for the shadow of independence. You cannot propose to become independent on what the low state of interest could afford you from such a think I have interest enough in to take the proper care for their execution. But Mr. M. must have patience. China is a great way off, further perhaps than he thinks; and his next year's roses must be content to wither in a Wedgwood pot. He will please to say whether he should like his Arms upon them, &c. I send herewith some patterns which suggest themselves to me at the first blush of the subject, but he will probably consult his own taste after all. ypy The last pattern is obviously fitted for ranunculuses only. The two former may indifferently hold daisies, marjoram, sweet williams, and that sort. My friend in Canton is Inspector of Teas, his name is Ball; and I can think of no better tunnel. I shall expect Mr. M.'s decision. "Taylor and Hessey finding their magazine goes off very heavily at 2s. 6d. are prudently going to raise their price another shilling; and having already more authors than they want, intend to increase the number of them. If they set up against the New Monthly, they must change their present hands. It is not tying the dead carcase of a Review to a half-dead Magazine will do their business. It is like G. D. multiplying his volumes to make 'em sell better. When he finds one will not go off, he publishes two; two stick, he tries three; three hang fire, he is confident that four will have a better chance. C. L." The following letter to Miss Hutchinson, at Torquay, refers to some of Lamb's later articles, published in the "London Magazine," which, in extending its size and pretensions to a three-and-sixpenny miscellany, had lost much of its spirit. He exults, however, in his veracious "Memoir of Liston!" TO MISS HUTCHINSON. "The brevity of this is owing to scratching it off at my desk amid expected interruptions. By habit, I can write letters only at office. "January 20th, 1825. "Dear Miss H.,-Thank you for a noble goose, which wanted only the massive incrustation that we used to pick-axe open, about this season, in old Gloster Place. When shall we eat another goose pie together? The pheasant, too, must not be forgotten; twice as big, and half as good as a partridge. You ask about the editor of the 'London ;' I "Two noble earls, whom if I quote, The plan was good, as some will say, I have made the lame one still lamer by imperfect memory; but spite of bald diction, a little done to it might improve it into a good one. You have nothing else to do at Torquay. Suppose you try it. Well, God bless you all, as wishes Mary most sincerely, with many thanks for letter, &c. ELIA." Mr. de Quincy had commenced a series of letters in education has been neglected," as a vehicle for conveying the "London Magazine," "To a Young Man whose miscellaneous information in his admirable style. Upon this hint Lamb, with the assent which Mr. de Quincy could well afford to give, contributed a parody on the scheme, in "A Letter to an Old Gentleman whose education has been neglected." "Dear W.-I write post-haste to ensure a frank. Thanks for your hearty congratulations! I may now date from the sixth week of my 'Hegira, or Flight from Leadenhall.' I have lived so much in it, that a summer seems already past; and 'tis but early May yet with you and other people. How I look down on the slaves and drudges of the world! Its inhabitants are a vast cotton-web of spin-spin-spinners! O the carking cares! O the money-grubbers! Sempiternal muckworms! "Your Virgil I have lost sight of, but suspect it is in the hands of Sir G. Beaumont; I think that circumstance made me shy of procuring it before. Will you write to him about it—and your commands shall be obeyed to a tittle. Essay, by which, if it get the prize, he'll touch an additional 100%. I fancy. His book, too, ('Commentary on Bishop Leighton,') is quite finished, and penes Taylor and Hessey. "In the 'London' which is just out (1st May,) are two papers entitled the 'Superannuated Man,' which I wish you to see; and also, 1st April, a little thing called 'Barbara S- -,' a story gleaned from Miss Kelly. The L. M., if you can get it, will save my enlargement upon the topic of my manumission. "I must scribble to make up my hiatus crumena; for there are so many ways, pious and profligate, of getting rid of money in this vast city and suburbs, that I shall miss my THIRDS. But couragio! I despair not. Your kind hint of the cottage was well thrown out; an anchorage for age and school of economy, when necessity comes; but without this latter, I have an unconquerable terror of changing place. It does not agree with us. I say it from conviction; else I do sometimes ruralise in fancy. "Some d-d people are come in, and I must finish abruptly. By d-d, I only mean deuced. 'Tis these suitors of Penelope that make it necessary to authorise a little for gin and mutton, and such trifles. "Excuse my abortive scribble. "C. L. "Love and recollects to all the Wms., Doras, Maries round your Wrekin. "Mary is capitally well. Do write to Sir G. B., for I am shyish of applying to him.” CHAPTER VIII. LETTERS OF LAMB'S LAST YEARS. [1825 to 1834.] How imperfectly the emancipation, so rapturously hailed, fulfilled its promises; how Lamb left Islington for Enfield, and there, after a while, subsided into a lodger; and how, at last, he settled at Edmonton to die, sufficiently appear in the former series of his letters. Those which occupy this chapter, "Coleridge has just finished his prize scattered through nine years, have either |