and his wife and four children, I suppose, to Gallery. Don't your mouth water to be the parish. Plenty of reflection and motives here? T'other night Loftus called, whom of gratitude to the wise Disposer of all things in us, whose prudent conduct has hitherto ensured us a warm fire and snug roof over our heads. Nullum numen abest si sit Prudentia. Alas! Prudentia is in the last quarter of her tutelary shining over me. A little time and I -; but maybe I may, at last, hit upon some mode of collecting | some of the vast superfluities of this moneyvoiding town. Much is to be got, and I do not want much. All I ask is time and leisure; and I am cruelly off for them. When you have the inclination, I shall be very glad to have a letter from you. Your brother and Mrs. H., I am afraid, think hardly of us for not coming oftener to see them, but we are distracted beyond what they can conceive with visitors and visitings. I never have an hour for my head to work quietly its own workings; which you know is as necessary to the human system as sleep. Sleep, too, I can't get for these winds of a night: and without sleep and rest what should ensue? Lunacy. But I trust it won't. "Yours, dear H., TO MR. HAZLITT. C. LAMB." "Feb. 19th, 1806. -- we have not seen since you went before. "N. B. Have taken a room at three shillings a-week, to be in between five and eight at night, to avoid my nocturnal alias knocketernal visitors. The first-fruits of my retirement has been a farce which goes to manager to-morrow. Wish my ticket luck. God bless you and do write.-Yours, fumosissimus, "C. LAMB." "Dear H.-Godwin has just been here in his way from Johnson's. Johnson has had a fire in his house; this happened about five weeks ago; it was in the day-time, so it did not burn the house down, but it did so much damage that the house must come down, to be repaired. His nephew that we met on Hampstead Hill put it out. Well, this fire has put him so back, that he craves one more month before he gives you an answer. I will certainly goad Godwin (if necessary) to go again this very day four weeks; but I am confident he will want no goading. Three or four most capital auctions of pictures advertised in May, Wellbore Ellis Agar's, the first private collection in England, so Holcroft says. In March, Sir George Young's in Stratford-place (where Cosway lives), and a Mr. Hulse's at Blackheath, both very capital collections, and have been announced for some months. Also the Marquis of Lans- perplexities-and terminate in the seriousdowne's pictures in March; and though infe- ness of marriage! It would be rare sport rior to mention, lastly, the Tructhsessian in Milton's "Limbo of Vanity," but is too The farce referred to in the foregoing letter is the delightful jeu-d'esprit, "MR. H.,” destined to only one night's stage existence, but to become "good jest for ever." It must be confessed that it has not substance enough for a dramatic piece in two acts-a piece which must present a show of real interest— involve its pair of young lovers in actual 'I am, sir, your obedient servant, [Dated] '66, Gower Street, 'Wednesday, June 11, 1806.' "On the following Sunday Mr. Tobin comes. The scent of a manager's letter brought him. He would have gone further airy for the ponderous sentimentalism of a few days, as the same is not in my hands, the modern school of farce. As Swift, in but with the proprietors. 66 Gulliver," brings everything to the standard of size, so in this farce everything is reduced to an alphabetical standard. Humour is sent to school to learn its letters; or, rather, letters are made instinct with the most delicate humour. It is the apotheosis of the alphabet, and teaches the value of a good name without the least hint of moral purpose. This mere pleasantry—this refining on sounds any day on such a business. I read the and letters-this verbal banter, and watery letter to him. He deems it authentic and collision of the pale reflexions of words, peremptory. Our conversation naturally could not succeed on a stage which had fell upon pieces, different sorts of pieces; begun to require interest, moral or immoral, what is the best way of offering a piece, how to be interwoven with the web of all its far the caprice of managers is an obstacle in actions; which no longer rejoiced in the riot the way of a piece, how to judge of the of animal spirits and careless gaiety; which merits of a piece, how long a piece may no longer permitted wit to take the sting remain in the hands of the from evil, as well as the load from care; but it is acted; and my piece, and your piece, infected even its prince of rakes, Charles and my poor brother's piece-my poor Surface, with a cant of sentiment which brother was all his life endeavouring to get a piece accepted. makes us turn for relief to the more honest hypocrite his brother. Mr. H. "could never do;" but its composition was pleasant, and its acceptance gave Lamb some of the happiest moments he ever spent. Thus he announces it to Wordsworth, in reply to a letter communicating to him that the poet was a father. -. TO MR. WORDSWORTH. Dear Wordsworth,-We are pleased, you may be sure, with the good news of Mrs. W - Hope all is well over by this time. 'A fine boy!-have you any more,-one more and a girl-poor copies of me!' vide MR. H., a farce which the proprietors have done me the honour; but I will set down Mr. Wroughton's own words. N. B. The ensuing letter was sent in answer to one which I wrote, begging to know if my piece had any chance, as I might make alterations, &c. I, writing on Monday, there comes this letter on the Wednesday. Attend! [Copy of a Letter from Mr. R. Wroughton.] 'Sir,-Your piece of Mr. H., I am desired to say, is accepted at Drury-Lane Theatre, by the proprietors, and, if agreeable to you, will be brought forwards when the proper opportunity serves. The piece shall be sent to you, for your alterations, in the course of managers before "I think this will be as good a pattern for orders as I can think on. A little thin flowery border, round, neat, not gaudy, and the Drury-lane Apollo, with the harp at the top. Or shall I have no Apollo ?—simply nothing? Or perhaps the comic muse? "The same form, only I think without the Apollo, will serve for the pit and galleries. I think it will be best to write my name at full length; but then if I give away a great many, that will be tedious. Perhaps Ch. Lamb will do. "BOXES, now I think on it, I'll have in capitals. The rest, in a neat Italian hand. Or better, perhaps Borts, in old English characters, like Madoc or Thalaba? "A-propos of Spenser (you will find him mentioned a page or two before, near enough for an a-propos), I was discoursing on poetry (as one's apt to deceive one's self, and when a person is willing to talk of what one likes, to believe that he also likes the same, as lovers do) with a young gentleman of my office, who is deep read in Anacreon Moore, Lord Strangford, and the principal modern poets, and I happened to mention Epithalamiums, and that I could show him a very fine one of Spenser's. At the mention of this, my gentleman, who is a very fine gentleman, pricked up his ears and expressed great pleasure, and begged that I would give him leave to copy it: he did not care how long it was (for I objected the length), he should be very happy to see anything by him. Then pausing, and looking sad, he ejaculated 'POOR SPENCER!' I begged to know the reason of his ejaculation, thinking that time had by this time softened down any calamities which the bard might have endured. 'Why, poor fellow!' said he, he has lost his wife!' 'Lost his wife!' said I, 'who are you talking of?' 'Why, Spencer!' said he; 'I've read the 'Monody" he wrote on the occasion, and a very pretty thing it is.' This led to an explanation (it could be delayed no longer), that the sound Spenser, which, when poetry is talked of, generally excites an image of an old bard in a ruff, and sometimes with it dim notions of Sir P. Sydney, and perhaps Lord Burleigh, had raised in my gentleman a quite contrary image of the Honourable William Spencer, who has translated some things from the German very prettily, which are published with Lady Di. Beauclerk's designs. Nothing like defining of terms when we talk. What blunders might I have fallen into of quite inapplicable criticism, but for this timely explanation. doing your commission will prove we do not quite forget you. C. L." The interval between the completion of the farce, "and its first acting," though full of bright hopes of dramatic success, was not all a phantom. The following two letters to Mr. Rickman, now one of the Clerks of the House of Commons, show Lamb's unwearied kindness. TO MR. RICKMAN. "Dear Rickman,-You do not happen to have any place at your disposal which would suit a decayed Literatus? I do not much expect that you have, or that you will go much out of the way to serve the object, when you hear it is F. But the case is, by a mistaking of his turn, as they call it, he is reduced, I am afraid, to extremities, and would be extremely glad of a place in an office. Now it does sometimes happen, that just as a man wants a place, a place wants him; and though this is a lottery to which none but G. B. would choose to trust his all, there is no harm just to call in at Despair's office for a friend, and see if his number is come up (B.'s farther case I enclose by way of episode). Now, if you should happen, or anybody you know, to want a hand, here is a young man of solid but not brilliant genius, who would turn his hand to the making out dockets, penning a manifesto, or scoring & tally, not the worse (I hope) for knowing Latin and Greek, and having in youth conversed with the philosophers. But from these follies I believe he is thoroughly awakened, and would bind himself by a terrible oath never to imagine himself an extraordinary genius again. "Yours, &c. TO MR. RICKMAN. C. LAMB." "March, 1806, "N.B. At the beginning of Edm. Spenser, "Dear Rickman,-I send you some papers (to prevent mistakes,) I have copied from my about a salt-water soap, for which the own copy, and primarily from a book of inventor is desirous of getting a parliaChalmers' on Shakspeare, a sonnet of Spen-mentary reward, like Dr. Jenner. Whether ser's never printed among his poems. It is such a project be feasible, I mainly doubt, curious, as being manly, and rather Miltonic, taking for granted the equal utility. I should and as a sonnet of Spenser's with nothing suppose the usual way of paying such proin it about love or knighthood. I have no jectors is by patents and contracts. The room for remembrances; but I hope our patent, you see, he has got. A contract he is about with the navy board. Meantime, hands with a wretch on the fatal scaffold, the projector is hungry. Will you answer me two questions, and return them with the papers as soon as you can? Imprimis, is there any chance of success in application to Parliament for a reward? Did you ever hear of the invention? You see its benefits and saving to the nation (always the first motive with a true projector) are feelingly set forth the last paragraph but one of the estimate, in enumerating the shifts poor seamen are put to, even approaches to the pathetic. But, agreeing to all he says, is there the remotest chance of Parliament giving the projector anything; and when should application be made, now or after a report (if he can get it) from the navy board? Secondly, let the infeasibility be as great as you will, you will oblige me by telling me the way of introducing such an application to Parliament, without buying over a majority of members, which is totally out of projector's power. I vouch nothing for the soap myself; for I always wash in fresh water, and find it answer tolerably well for all purposes of cleanliness; nor do I know the projector; but a relation of mine has put me on writing to you, for whose parliamentary knowledge he has great and, when you are down the ladder, you can never stretch out to him again. Mary says you are dead, and there's nothing to do but to leave it to time to do for us in the end what it always does for those who mourn for people in such a case. But she'll see by your letter you are not quite dead. A little kicking and agony, and then -. - Martin Burney took me out a walking that evening, and we talked of Manning; and then I came home and smoked for you, and at twelve o'clock came home Mary and Monkey Louisa from the play, and there was more talk and more smoking, and they all seemed first-rate characters, because they knew a certain person. But what's the use of talking about 'em? By the time you'll have made your escape from the Kalmuks, you'll have stayed so long I shall never be able to bring to your mind who Mary was, who will have died about a year before, nor who the Holcrofts were! me perhaps you will mistake for Phillips, or confound me with Mr. Dawe, because you saw us together. Mary (whom you seem to remember yet) is not quite easy that she had not a formal parting from you. I wish it had so happened. But you must bring her a token, a shawl or something, and remember a sprightly little mandarin for our mantel-piece, as a companion to the child I am going to purchase at the museum. She says you saw her writings about the other day, and she wishes you should know what they are. She is doing for Godwin's bookseller twenty of Shakspeare's plays, to be made into children's tales. Six are already done by her, to wit, 'The Tempest,' 'Winter's Before the production of " Mr. H.," Lamb Tale,' 'Midsummer Night,' 'Much Ado,' was obliged, in sad earnest, to part from 'Two Gentlemen of Verona,' and 'CymbeManning, who, after talking and thinking line;' and 'The Merchant of Venice' is in about China for years, took the heroic reso- forwardness. I have done 'Othello' and lution of going thither, not to acquire wealthMacbeth,' and mean to do all the tragedies. or fame, but to realise the phantom of his I think it will be popular among the little restless thought. Happy was he to have a friend, like Mr. Burney, to indulge and to soften his grief, which he thus expresses in his first letter to his friend. veneration. "P.S. The Capt. and Mrs. Burney and Phillips take their chance at cribbage here on Wednesday. Will you and Mrs. R. join the party? Mary desires her compliments to Mrs. R., and joins in the invitation. "Yours truly, TO MR. MANNING. C. LAMB." "May 10th, 1806. "My dear Manning,-I didn't know what your going was till I shook a last fist with you, and then 'twas just like having shaken people, besides money. It's to bring in sixty guineas. Mary has done them capitally, I think, you'd think. These are the humble amusements we propose, while you are gone to plant the cross of Christ among barbarous pagan anthropophagi. Quam homo homini præstat! but then, perhaps, you'll get murdered, and we shall die in our beds with a fair literary reputation. Be sure, if you see any of those people, whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders, that you make a coming to you. It will be a point of condraught of them. It will be very curious. science to send you none but bran-new news Oh! Manning, I am serious to sinking almost, (the latest edition), which will but grow the when I think that all those evenings, which better, like oranges, for a sea voyage. Oh you have made so pleasant, are gone perhaps that you should be so many hemispheres off for ever. Four years, you talk of, may be—if I speak incorrectly you can correct me ten, and you may come back and find such-why the simplest death or marriage that alterations! Some circumstances may grow takes place here must be important to you up to you or to me, that may be a bar to the as news in the old Bastile. There's your return of any such intimacy. I dare say all this is hum! and that all will come back; but, indeed, we die many deaths before we die, and I am almost sick when I think that such a hold as I had of you is gone. I have friends, but some of 'em are changed. Marriage, or some circumstance, rises up to make them not the same. But I felt sure of you. And that last token you gave me of expressing a wish to have my name joined with yours, you know not how it affected me: like a legacy. friend Tuthill has got away from Franceyou remember France? and Tuthill ?-tento-one but he writes by this post, if he don't get my note in time, apprising him of the vessel sailing. Know then that he has found means to obtain leave from Bonaparte, without making use of any incredible romantic pretences as some have done, who never meant to fulfil them, to come home, and I have seen him here and at Holcroft's. An't you glad about Tuthill? Now then be sorry for Holcroft, whose new play, called 'The Vindictive Man,' was damned about a fortnight since. It died in part of its own weakness, and in part for being choked up with bad actors. The two principal parts were destined to Mrs. Jordan and Mr. Bannister, but Mrs. J. has not come to terms with the managers, they have had some squabble, and Bannister shot some of his fingers off by the "God bless you in every way you can form a wish. May He give you health, and safety, and the accomplishment of all your objects, and return you again to us, to gladden some fireside or other (I suppose we shall be moved from the Temple). I will nurse the remembrance of your steadiness and quiet, which used to infuse something like itself into our nervous minds. Mary called you our venti-going off of a gun. So Miss Duncan had her lator. Farewell, and take her best wishes and mine. "Good bye, C. L." Christmas approached, and Lamb then conveyed to Manning, now at the antipodes, news of poor Holcroft's failure in his play of "The Vindictive Man," and his own approaching trial. TO MR. MANNING. "December 5th, 1806. part, and Mr. De Camp took his. His part, the principal comic hope of the play, was most unluckily Goldfinch, taken out of the 'Road to Ruin,' not only the same character, but the identical Goldfinch-the same as Falstaff is in two plays of Shakspeare. As the devil of ill-luck would have it, half the audience did not know that H. had written it, but were displeased at his stealing from the 'Road to Ruin;' and those who might have borne a gentlemanly coxcomb with his 'That's your sort,' 'Go it'-such as Lewis is "Manning, your letter dated Hottentots, did not relish the intolerable vulgarity and August the what-was-it? came to hand. I inanity of the idea stript of his manner. De can scarce hope that mine will have the same Camp was hooted, more than hist, hooted and luck. China-Canton-bless us-how it bellowed off the stage before the second act strains the imagination and makes it ache! was finished, so that the remainder of his part I write under another uncertainty, whether was forced to be, with some violence to the it can go to-morrow by a ship which I have play, omitted. In addition to this, a woman just learned is going off direct to your part of the town was another principal character of the world, or whether the despatches may -a most unfortunate choice in this moral not be sealed up and this have to wait, for if it is detained here, it will grow staler in a fortnight than in a five months' voyage day. The audience were as scandalised as if you were to introduce such a personage to their private tea-tables. Besides, her action |