LETTER 531
CHARLES LAMB TO BERNARD BARTON
April 30, 1831.
Vir Bone!—Recepi literas tuas amicissimas, et in mentem venit responsuro mihi, vel raro, vel nunquam, inter nos intercedisse Latinam linguam, organum rescribendi, loquendive. Epistolae tuae, Plinianis elegantiis (supra quod TREMULO deceat) refertae, tam a verbis Plinianis adeo abhorrent, ut ne vocem quamquam (Romanam scilicet) habere videaris, quam "ad canem," ut aiunt, "rejectare possis." Forsan desuetudo Latinissandi ad vernaculam linguam usitandam, plusquam opus sit, coegit. Per adagia quaedam nota, et in ore omnium pervulgata, ad Latinitatis perditae recuperationem revocare te institui.
Felis in abaco est, et aegrè videt. Omne quod splendet nequaquam aurum putes. Imponas equo mendicum, equitabit idem ad diabolum. Fur commodè a fure prenditur. O MARIA, MARIA, valdè CONTRARIA, quomodo crescit hortulus tuus? Nunc majora canamus. Thomas, Thomas, de Islington, uxorem duxit die nupera Dominicâ. Reduxit domum posterâ. Succedenti baculum emit. Postridiè ferit illam. Aegrescit ilia subsequenti. Proximâ (nempe Veneris) est Mortua. Plurimum gestiit Thomas, quòd appropinquanti Sabbato efferenda sit.
Horner quidam Johannulus in angulo sedebat, artocreas quasdam deglutiens. Inseruit pollices, pruna nana evellens, et magnâ voce exclamavit "Dii boni, quàm bonus puer fio!"
Diddle-diddle-dumkins! meus unicus filius Johannes cubitum ivit, integris braccis, caligâ unâ tantum, indutus. Diddle-diddle, etc. DA CAPO.
Hie adsum saltans Joannula. Cum nemo adsit mihi, semper resto sola.
Aenigma mihi hoc solvas, et Oedipus fies.
Quâ ratione assimulandus sit equus TREMULO?
Quippe cui tota communicatio sit per HAY et NEIGH, juxta consilium illud
Dominicum, "Fiat omnis communicatio vestra YEA et NAY."
In his nugis caram diem consume, dum invigilo valetudini carioris nostras Emmae, quae apud nos jamdudum aegrotat. Salvere vos jubet mecum Maria mea, ipsa integrâ valetudine.
ELIA.
Ab agro Enfeldiense datum, Aprilis nescio quibus Calendis— Davus sum, non Calendarius.
P.S.—Perdita in toto est Billa Reformatura.
[Mr. Stephen Gwynn gives me the following translation:—
Good Sir, I have received your most kind letter, and it has entered my mind as I began to reply, that the Latin tongue has seldom or never been used between us as the instrument of converse or correspondence. Your letters, filled with Plinian elegancies (more than becomes a Quaker), are so alien to Pliny's language, that you seem not to have a word (that is, a Roman word) to throw, as the saying is, at a dog. Perchance the disuse of Latinising had constrained you more than is right to the use of the vernacular. I have determined to recall you to the recovery of your lost Latinity by certain well-known adages common in all mouths.
The cat's in the cupboard and she can't see.
All that glitters is not gold.
Set a beggar on horseback and he'll ride to the Devil.
Set a thief to catch a thief.
Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?
Now let us sing of weightier matters.
Tom, Tom, of Islington, wed a wife on Sunday. He brought her home on Monday. Bought a stick on Tuesday. Beat her well on Wednesday. She was sick on Thursday. Dead on Friday. Tom was glad on Saturday night to bury his wife on Sunday.
Little Jack Homer sat in a corner, eating his Christmas pie. He put in his thumb and drew out a plum, and cried "Good Heavens, what a good boy am I!"
Diddle, diddle, dumkins! my son John Went to bed with his breeches
on; One shoe off and the other shoe on, Diddle, diddle, etc. (Da
Capo.)
Here am I, jumping Joan. When no one's by, I'm all alone.
Solve me this enigma, you shall be an Oedipus.
Why is a horse like a Quaker?
Because all his communication is by Hay and Neigh, after the Lord's counsel, "Let all your communication be Yea and Nay."
In these trifles I waste the precious day, while watching over the health of our more precious Emma, who has been sick in our house this long time. My Mary sends you greeting with me, she herself in sound health.
Given from the Enfield country seat, on I know not what Calends of
April—I am Davus not an Almanac.[l]
P.S.—The Reform Bill is lost altogether.
The Reform Bill was introduced on March 1, 1831, by Lord John Russell; the second reading was carried on March 22 by a majority of 1. On its commitment on April 19 there was a majority of 8 against the Government. Four days later the Government was again defeated by 22 and Parliament was dissolved. But later, of course, the Reform Bill was passed.]
[Footnote 1: Allusion to the phrase of Davus the servant in
Plautus—"Davus sum non Oedipus."]
LETTER 532
CHARLES LAMB TO H.F. CARY
[Dated at end:] Datum ab agro Enfeldiensi, Maii die sextâ, 1831.
Assidens est mihi bona soror, Euripiden evolvens, donum vestrum, carissime Cary, pro quo gratias agimus, lecturi atque iterum lecturi idem. Pergratus est liber ambobus, nempe "Sacerdotis Commiserationis," sacrum opus a te ipso Humanissimae Religionis Sacerdote dono datum. Lachrymantes gavisuri sumus; est ubi dolor fiat voluptas; nee semper dulce mihi est ridere; aliquando commutandum est he! he! he! cum heu! heu! heu!
A Musis Tragicis me non penitus abhorruisse lestis sit Carmen
Calamitosum, nescio quo autore linguâ prius vernaculi scriptum, et
nuperrimè a me ipso Latine versum, scilicet, "Tom Tom of Islington."
Tenuistine?
"Thomas Thomas de Islington,
Uxorem duxit Die quâdam Solis,
Abduxit domum sequenti die,
Emit baculum subsequenti,
Vapulat ilia posterâ,
Aegrotat succedenti, Mortua fit crastina."
Et miro gaudio afficitur Thomas luce posterâ quod subsequenti (nempe,
Dominicâ) uxor sit efferenda.
"En Iliades Domesticas!
En circulum calamitatum!
Planè hebdomadalem tragoediam."
I nunc et confer Euripiden vestrum his luctibus, hâc morte uxoriâ; confer Alcesten! Hecuben! quasnon antiquas Heroinas Dolorosas.
Suffundor genas lachrymis, tantas strages revolvens. Quid restat nisi quod Tecum Tuam Caram salutamus ambosque valere jubeamus, nosmet ipsi bene valentes. ELIA.
[Mr. Stephen Gwynn gives me the following translation:—
Sitting by me is my good sister, turning over Euripides, your gift, dear Cary [a pun here, "carissime care"], for which we thank you, and will read and re-read it. Most acceptable to both of us is this book of "Pity's Priest," a sacred work of your bestowing, yourself a priest of the most humane Religion. We shall take our pleasure weeping; there are times when pain turns pleasure, and I would not always be laughing: sometimes there should be a change—heu heu! for he! he!
That I have not shrunk from the Tragic Muses, witness this
Lamentable Ballad, first written in the vernacular by I know not
what author and lately by myself put into Latin T. T. of Islington.
Have you heard it? (See translation of preceding letter.)
And Thomas is possessed with a wondrous joy on the following
morning, because on the next day, that is, Sunday, his wife must be
buried.
Lo, your domestic Iliads!
Lo, the wheel of Calamities
The true tragedy of a week.
Go to now, compare your Euripides with these sorrows, this death of
a wife! Compare Alcestis! Hecuba! or what not other sorrowing
Heroines of antiquity.
My cheeks are tear-bedewed as I revolve such slaughter. What more to
say, but to salute you Cary and your Cara, and wish you health,
ourselves enjoying it.
In Mary and Charles Lamb, 1874, by W.C. Hazlitt, in the Catalogue of Charles Lamb's Library, for sale by Bartlett and Welford, New York, is this item:—"Euripidis Tragediae, interp. Lat. 8vo. Oxonii, 1821". "C. and M. Lamb, from H.F. Cary," on flyleaf. This must be the book referred to. Euripides has been called the priest of pity.]
LETTER 533
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[P.M. July 14, 1831.]
Collier's Book would be right acceptable. And also a sixth vol. just publish'd of Nichols's Illustrations of the Literary History of 18th Century. I agree with you, and do yet not disagree with W.W., as to H. It rejoyced my heart to read his friendly spirited mention of your publications. It might be a drawback to my pleasure, that he has tried to decry my "Nicky," but on deliberate re- and reperusal of his censure I cannot in the remotest degree understand what he means to say. He and I used to dispute about Hell Eternities, I taking the affirmative. I love to puzzle atheists, and—parsons. I fancy it runs in his head, that I meant to rivet the idea of a personal devil. Then about the glorious three days! there was never a year or day in my past life, since I was pen-worthy, that I should not have written precisely as I have. Logic and modesty are not among H.'s virtues. Talfourd flatters me upon a poem which "nobody but I could have written," but which I have neither seen nor heard of—"The Banquet," or "Banqueting Something," that has appeared in The Tatler. Know you of it? How capitally the Frenchman has analysed Satan! I was hinder'd, or I was about doing the same thing in English, for him to put into French, as I prosified Hood's midsummer fairies. The garden of cabbage escap'd him, he turns it into a garden of pot herbs. So local allusions perish in translation. About 8 days before you told me of R.'s interview with the Premier, I, at the desire of Badams, wrote a letter to him (Badams) in the most moving terms setting forth the age, infirmities &c. of Coleridge. This letter was convey'd to [by] B. to his friend Mr. Ellice of the Treasury, Brother in Law to Lord Grey, who immediately pass'd it on [to] Lord Grey, who assured him of immediate relief by a grant on the King's Bounty, which news E. communicated to B. with a desire to confer with me on the subject, on which I went up to THE Treasury (yesterday fortnight) and was received by the Great Man with the utmost cordiality, (shook hands with me coming and going) a fine hearty Gentleman, and, as seeming willing to relieve any anxiety from me, promised me an answer thro' Badams in 2 or 3 days at furthest. Meantime Gilman's extraordinary insolent letter comes out in the Times! As to my acquiescing in this strange step, I told Mr. Ellice (who expressly said that the thing was renewable three-yearly) that I consider'd such a grant as almost equivalent to the lost pension, as from C.'s appearance and the representations of the Gilmans, I scarce could think C.'s life worth 2 years' purchase. I did not know that the Chancellor had been previously applied to. Well, after seeing Ellice I wrote in the most urgent manner to the Gilmans, insisting on an immediate letter of acknowledgment from Coleridge, or them in his name to Badams, who not knowing C. had come forward so disinterestedly amidst his complicated illnesses and embarrassments, to use up an interest, which he may so well need, in favor of a stranger; and from that day not a letter has B. or even myself, received from Highgate, unless that publish'd one in the Times is meant as a general answer to all the friends who have stirr'd to do C. service! Poor C. is not to blame, for he is in leading strings.—I particularly wish you would read this part of my note to Mr. Rogers. Now for home matters—Our next 2 Sundays will be choked up with all the Sugdens. The third will be free, when we hope you will show your sister the way to Enfield and leave her with us for a few days. In the mean while, could you not run down some week day (afternoon, say) and sleep at the Horse Shoe? I want to have my 2d vol. Elias bound Specimen fashion, and to consult you about 'em. Kenney has just assured me, that he has just touch'd £100 from the theatre; you are a damn'd fool if you don't exact your Tythe of him, and with that assurance I rest
Your Brother fool C.L.
[Collier's book would be his History of English Dramatic Poetry, 1831. Nichols's Illustrations had been begun by John Nichols, and six volumes were published between 1817 and 1831. It was completed in two more volumes by his son, John Bowyer Nichols, in 1848 and 1858.
"H."—Leigh Hunt. We do not know what W.W., presumably Wordsworth, had to say of him; but this is how Hunt had referred to Moxon's publications and Lamb's Satan in Search of a Wife in The Tatler for June 4, 1831, the occasion being a review of "Selections from Wordsworth" for schools:—
Mr. Moxon has begun his career as a bookseller in singularly high taste. He has no connection but with the select of the earth. The least thing he does, is to give us a dandy poem, suitable to Bond street, and not without wit. We allude to the Byronian brochure, entitled "Mischief." But this is a mere condescension to the elegance of the street he lives in. Mr. Moxon commenced with some of the primaeval delicacies of Charles Lamb. He then astonished us with Mr. Rogers' poems on Italy…. Of some of these publications we have already spoken,—Mr. Lamb's Album Verses among them. And why (the reader may ask) not have noticed his Satan in Search of a Wife? Because, to say the truth, we did not think it worthy of him. We rejoice in Mr. Lamb's accession to the good cause advocated by Sterne and Burns, refreshed by the wholesome mirth of Mr. Moncrieff, and finally carried (like a number of other astonished humanities, who little thought of the matter, and are not all sensible of it now) on the triumphant shoulders of the Glorious Three Days. But Mr. Lamb, in the extreme sympathy of his delight, has taken for granted, that everything that can be uttered on the subject will be held to be worth uttering, purely for its own sake, and because it could not well have been said twelve months ago. He merges himself, out of the pure transport of his good will, into the joyous common-places of others; just as if he had joined a great set of children in tossing over some mighty bowl of snap-dragon, too scalding to bear; and thought that nothing could be so good as to echo their "hurras!" Furthermore, we fear that some of his old friends, on the wrong side of the House, would think a little of his merriment profane: though for our parts, if we are certain of anything in this world, it is that nothing can be more Christian.
"The Banquet." I cannot find this poem. It is, I think, not in The
Tatler.
"How capitally the Frenchman …" I cannot find any French paraphrase of Satan in Search of a Wife, nor has a search at the Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris revealed one.
"R.'s interview with the Premier." R. would be Rogers. Perhaps the best explanation of this portion of Lamb's letter is the following passage from Mr. Dykes Campbell's memoir of Coleridge:—
On June 26, 1830, died George IV., and with him died the pensions of the Royal Associates. Apparently they did not find this out until the following year. In the Englishman's Magazine for June, 1831, attention was directed to the fact that "intimation had been given to Mr. Coleridge and his brother Associates that they must expect their allowances 'very shortly' to cease"—the allowances having been a personal bounty of the late King. On June 3, 1831, Gillman wrote a letter to the Times, "in consequence of a paragraph which appeared in the Times of this day." He states that on the sudden suppression of the honorarium, representations on Coleridge's behalf were made to Lord Brougham, with the result that the Treasury (Lord Grey) offered a private grant of £200, which Coleridge "had felt it his duty most respectfully to decline." Stuart, however, wrote to King William's son, the Earl of Munster, pointing out the hardship entailed on Coleridge, "who is old and infirm, and without other means of subsistence." He begs the Earl to lay the matter before his royal father. To this a reply came, excusing the King on account of his "very reduced income," but promising that the matter shall be laid before His Majesty. To these letters, which are printed in Letters from the Lake Poets (pages 319-322), the following note is appended: "The annuity … was not renewed, but a sum of £300 was ultimately handed over to Coleridge by the Treasury." Even apart from this bounty, Coleridge was not a sufferer by the withdrawal of the King's pension, for Frere made it up to him annually.
It is interesting to know that Lamb played so useful and characteristic a part in this matter.
"The Sugdens." I do not identify these friends.
"2d vol. Elias." This would refer, I think, to the American volume, published without authority, in 1828, under the title Elia; or, Second Series, which Lamb told N.P. Willis he liked. It contained three pieces not by Lamb; the rest made up from the Works and the London Magazine (see Vol. II., notes).]
LETTER 534
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
Pray forward the enclosed, or put it in the post.
[No date. Early August, 1831.]
Dear M.—The R.A. here memorised was George Dawe, whom I knew well and heard many anecdotes of, from DANIELS and WESTALL, at H. Rogers's—to each of them it will be well to send a Mag. in my name. It will fly like wild fire among the R. Academicians and artists. Could you get hold of Proctor—his chambers are in Lincoln's Inn at Montagu's—or of Janus Weathercock?—both of their prose is capital. Don't encourage poetry. The Peter's Net does not intend funny things only. All is fish. And leave out the sickening Elia at the end. Then it may comprise letters and characters addrest to Peter—but a signature forces it to be all characteristic of the one man Elia, or the one man Peter, which cramped me formerly. I have agreed not for my sister to know the subjects I chuse till the Mag. comes out; so beware of speaking of 'em, or writing about 'em, save generally. Be particular about this warning. Can't you drop in some afternoon, and take a bed?
The Athenaeum has been hoaxed with some exquisite poetry that was 2 or 3 months ago in Hone's Book. I like your 1st No. capitally. But is it not small? Come and see us, week day if possible. C.L.
[Moxon had just acquired The Englishman's Magazine and Lamb contributed to the September number his "Recollections of a Late Royal Academician," George Dawe (see Vol. I. of this edition), under the general title "Peter's Net." Daniels may have been Thomas or William Daniell, both landscape painters. Westall may have been Richard Westall, the historical painter, or William Westall, the topographical painter. H. Rogers was Henry Rogers, brother of the poet.
"The Athenaeum has been hoaxed." The exquisite poetry was FitzGerald's
"Meadows in Spring" (see next letter).]
LETTER 535
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[P.M. Aug. 5, 1831.]
Send, or bring me, Hone's No. for August.
Hunt is a fool, and his critics——The anecdotes of E. and of G.D. are substantially true. What does Elia (or Peter) care for dates?
That is the poem I mean. I do not know who wrote it, but is in Hone's book as far back as April.
Tis a poem I envy—that & Montgomery's Last Man (nothing else of his).
I envy the writers, because I feel I could have done something like it.
S—— is a coxcomb. W—— is a —— & a great Poet. L.
[Hone was now editing his Year Book. Under the date April 30 had appeared Edward FitzGerald's poem, "The Meadows in Spring," with the following introduction:—
These verses are in the old style; rather homely in expression; but I honestly profess to stick more to the simplicity of the old poets than the moderns, and to love the philosophical good humor of our old writers more than the sickly melancholy of the Byronian wits. If my verses be not good, they are good humored, and that is something.
The editor of The Athenaeum, in reprinting the poem, suggested delicately that it was by Lamb. There is no such poem by James Montgomery as "The Last Man." Campbell wrote a "Last Man," and so did Hood, but I agree with Canon Ainger that what Lamb meant was Montgomery's "Common Lot." I give the two poems in the Appendix as illustrations of what Lamb envied.
"Hunt is a fool." In The Tatler for August 1 Leigh Hunt had quoted much of Lamb's essay on Elliston. I do not, however, find any adverse criticism.
"E. and G.D." Lamb had written in the August number of The Englishman's Magazine his "Reminiscences of Elliston." Lamb's article on George Dawe did not appear till the September number, but perhaps Moxon already had the copy.]
LETTER 536
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[P.M. Sept. 5, 1831.]
Dear M., Your Letter's contents pleased me. I am only afraid of taxing you, yet I want a stimulus, or I think I should drag sadly. I shall keep the monies in trust till I see you fairly over the next 1 January. Then I shall look upon 'em as earned. Colburn shall be written to. No part of yours gave me more pleasure (no, not the £,10, tho' you may grin) than that you will revisit old Enfield, which I hope will be always a pleasant idea to you.
Yours very faithfully
C.L.
[The letter's contents was presumably payment for Lamb's contribution to The Englishman's Magazine.]
LETTER 537
CHARLES LAMB TO WILLIAM HAZLITT, JR.
[P.M. Sept. 13, 1831.]
Dear Wm—We have a sick house, Mrs. Westw'ds daughter in a fever, & Grandaughter in the meazles, & it is better to see no company just now, but in a week or two we shall be very glad to see you; come at a hazard then, on a week day if you can, because Sundays are stuffd up with friends on both parts of this great ill-mix'd family. Your second letter, dated 3d Sept'r, came not till Sund'y & we staid at home in even'g in expectation of seeing you. I have turned & twisted what you ask'd me to do in my head, & am obliged to say I can not undertake it—but as a composition for declining it, will you accept some verses which I meditate to be addrest to you on your father, & prefixable to your Life? Write me word that I may have 'em ready against I see you some 10 days hence, when I calculate the House will be uninfected. Send your mother's address.
If you are likely to be again at Cheshunt before that time, on second thoughts, drop in here, & consult—
Yours,
C.L.
Not a line is yet written—so say, if I shall do 'em.
[This is the only letter extant to the younger Hazlitt, who was then nearly twenty. William Hazlitt, the essayist, had died September 18, 1830. Lamb was at his bedside. The memoir of him, by his son, was prefixed to the Literary Remains in 1836, but no verses by Lamb accompanied it. When this letter was last sold at Sotheby's in June, 1902, a copy of verses was attached beginning—
There lives at Winterslow a man of such
Rare talents and deep learning …
in the handwriting of William Hazlitt. They bear more traces of being Mary Lamb's work than her brother's.]
LETTER 538
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[P.M. October 24, 1831.]
To address an abdicated monarch is a nice point of breeding. To give him his lost titles is to mock him; to withhold 'em is to wound him. But his Minister who falls with him may be gracefully sympathetic. I do honestly feel for your diminution of honors, and regret even the pleasing cares which are part and parcel of greatness. Your magnanimous submission, and the cheerful tone of your renunciation, in a Letter which, without flattery, would have made an "ARTICLE," and which, rarely as I keep letters, shall be preserved, comfort me a little. Will it please, or plague you, to say that when your Parcel came I damned it, for my pen was warming in my hand at a ludicrous description of a Landscape of an R.A., which I calculated upon sending you to morrow, the last day you gave me. Now any one calling in, or a letter coming, puts an end to my writing for the day. Little did I think that the mandate had gone out, so destructive to my occupation, so relieving to the apprehensions of the whole body of R.A.'s. So you see I had not quitted the ship while a plank was remaining.
To drop metaphors, I am sure you have done wisely. The very spirit of your epistle speaks that you have a weight off your mind. I have one on mine. The cash in hand, which, as * * * * * * less truly says, burns in my pocket. I feel queer at returning it (who does not?). You feel awkward at re-taking it (who ought not?) Is there no middle way of adjusting this fine embarrassment? I think I have hit upon a medium to skin the sore place over, if not quite to heal it. You hinted that there might be something under £10 by and by accruing to me Devil's Money. You are sanguine—say £7: 10s.—that I entirely renounce and abjure all future interest in, I insist upon it, and "by Him I will not name" I won't touch a penny of it. That will split your Loss one half—and leave me conscientious possessor of what I hold. Less than your assent to this, no proposal will I accept of.
The Rev. Mr.———, whose name you have left illegible (is it Sea-gull?) never sent me any book on Christ's Hospit. by which I could dream that I was indebted to him for a dedication. Did G.D. send his penny tract to me to convert me to Unitarianism? Dear blundering soul! why I am as old a one-Goddite as himself. Or did he think his cheap publication would bring over the Methodists over the way here? However I'll give it to the pew-opener (in whom I have a little interest,) to hand over to the Clerk, whose wife she sometimes drinks tea with, for him to lay before the Deacon, who exchanges the civility of the hat with him, for him to transmit to the Minister, who shakes hand with him out of Chapel, and he, in all odds, will —— with it.
I wish very much to see you. I leave it to you to come how you will. We shall be very glad (we need not repeat) to see your sister, or sisters, with you—but for you individually I will just hint that a dropping in to Tea unlook'd for about 5, stopping bread-n-cheese and gin-and-water, is worth a thousand Sundays. I am naturally miserable on a Sunday, but a week day evening and Supper is like old times. Set out now, and give no time to deliberation—
P.S.—The 2d vol. of Elia is delightful(-ly bound, I mean) and quite cheap. Why, man, 'tis a Unique—
If I write much more I shall expand into an article, which I cannot afford to let you have so cheap.
By the by, to shew the perverseness of human will—while I thought I must furnish one of those accursed things monthly, it seemed a Labour above Hercules's "Twelve" in a year, which were evidently Monthly Contributions. Now I am emancipated, I feel as if I had a thousand Essays swelling within me. False feelings both.
I have lost Mr. Aitken's Town address—do you know it? Is he there?
Your ex-Lampoonist, or Lamb-punnist—from Enfield, Oct. 24, or "last day but one for receiving articles that can be inserted."
[Moxon, finding The Englishman's Magazine unsuccessful, gave it up suddenly after the October number, the third under his direction. His letter to Lamb on the subject is not now forthcoming. The ludicrous description of a landscape by an R.A. is, I imagine, that of the garden of the Hesperides in the Elia essay on the "Barrenness of the Imaginative Faculty in the Production of Modern Art" (see Vol. II.). Probably Turner's "Garden of the Hesperides" in the National Gallery.
By "Devil's Money" Lamb means money due for Satan in
Search of a Wife. I do not identify * * * * * *.
"The Rev. Mr. ——." I have not identified this gentleman.
"G.D…. penny tract." I have not found Dyer's tract.
"Mr. Aitken." John Aitken, editor of Constable's Miscellany, whom
Moxon would have known at Hurst & Co.'s.]
LETTER 539
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[P.M. Dec. 15, 1831.]
Dear M. +S. I know, has an aversion, amounting almost to horror, of H. He would not lend his name. The other I might wring a guinea from, but he is very properly shy of his guineas. It would be improper in me to apply to him, and impertinent to the other. I hope this will satisfy you, but don't give my reason to H.'s friend, simply, say I decline it.
I am very much obliged to you for thinking of Gary. Put me down seven shillings (wasn't it?) in your books, and I set you down for more in my good ones. One Copy will go down to immortality now, the more lasting as the less its leaves are disturbed. This Letter will cost you 3d.—but I did not like to be silent on the above +.
Nothing with my name will sell, a blast is upon it. Do not think of such a thing, unless ever you become rich enough to speculate.
Being praised, and being bought, are different things to a Book. Fancy books sell from fashion, not from the number of their real likers. Do not come at so long intervals. Here we are sure to be.
[S. and H. I do not identify—perhaps Southey and Hunt. Hunt's need of guineas was chronic. The reference to Gary is not very clear. Lamb seems to suggest that he is giving Gary a copy of a book that Gary will not read, but will preserve.
"Nothing with my name." Moxon may perhaps have just suggested publishing a second series of Elia.]
LETTER 540
CHARLES LAMB TO JOSEPH HUME'S DAUGHTERS
[No date. 1832.]
Many thanks for the wrap-rascal, but how delicate the insinuating in, into the pocket, of that 3-1/2d., in paper too! Who was it? Amelia, Caroline, Julia, Augusta, or "Scots who have"?
As a set-off to the very handsome present, which I shall lay out in a pot of ale certainly to her health, I have paid sixpence for the mend of two button-holes of the coat now return'd. She shall not have to say, "I don't care a button for her."
Adieu, très aimables!
Buttons 6d.
Gift 3-1/2
Due from —— 2-1/2
which pray accept … from your foolish coatforgetting
C.L.
[Joseph Hume we have met. Mr. Hazlitt writes: "Amelia Hume became Mrs. Bennett, Julia Mrs. Todhunter. The latter personally informed me in 1888 that her Aunt Augusta perfectly recollected all the circumstances [of the present note]. The incident seems to have taken place at the residence of Mr. Hume, in Percy Street, Bloomsbury, and it was Amelia who found the three-pence-halfpenny in the coat which Lamb left behind him, and who repaired the button-holes. The sister who is described as 'Scots wha ha'e' was Louisa Hume; it was a favourite song with her." Mrs. Todhunter supplied the date, 1832.]
LETTER 541
CHARLES LAMB TO CHARLES WENTWORTH DILKE
[P.M. March 5, 1832.]
D'r Sir, My friend Aders, a German merchant, German born, has opend to the public at the Suffolk St. Gallery his glorious Collection of old Dutch and German Pictures. Pray see them. You have only to name my name, and have a ticket—if you have not received one already. You will possibly notice 'em, and might lug in the inclosed, which I wrote for Hone's Year Book, and has appear'd only there, when the Pictures were at home in Euston Sq. The fault of this matchless set of pictures is, the admitting a few Italian pictures with 'em, which I would turn out to make the Collection unique and pure. Those old Albert Durers have not had their fame. I have tried to illustrate 'em. If you print my verses, a Copy, please, for me.
[The first letter to Charles Wentworth Dilke (1789-1864), a friend of
Keats, Hunt and Hood, editor of Dodsley and at this time editor of The
Athenaeum. Lamb's verses ran thus:—
TO C. ADERS, ESQ.
On his Collection of Paintings by the old German Masters
Friendliest of men, Aders, I never come
Within the precincts of this sacred Room,
But I am struck with a religious fear,
Which says "Let no profane eye enter here."
With imagery from Heav'n the walls are clothed,
Making the things of Time seem vile and loathed.
Spare Saints, whose bodies seem sustain'd by Love
With Martyrs old in meek procession move.
Here kneels a weeping Magdalen, less bright
To human sense for her blurr'd cheeks; in sight
Of eyes, new-touch'd by Heaven, more winning fair
Than when her beauty was her only care.
A Hermit here strange mysteries doth unlock
In desart sole, his knees worn by the rock.
There Angel harps are sounding, while below
Palm-bearing Virgins in white order go.
Madonnas, varied with so chaste design.
While all are different, each seems genuine,
And hers the only Jesus: hard outline,
And rigid form, by Dürer's hand subdued
To matchless grace, and sacro-sanctitude;
Dürer, who makes thy slighted Germany
Vie with the praise of paint-proud Italy.
Whoever enter'st here, no more presume
To name a Parlour, or a Drawing Room;
But, bending lowly to each, holy Story,
Make this thy Chapel, and thine Oratory.]
LETTER 542
CHARLES LAMB TO S.T. COLERIDGE
April 14th, 1832.
My dear Coleridge,—Not an unkind thought has passed in my brain about you. But I have been wofully neglectful of you, so that I do not deserve to announce to you, that if I do not hear from you before then, I will set out on Wednesday morning to take you by the hand. I would do it this moment, but an unexpected visit might flurry you. I shall take silence for acquiescence, and come. I am glad you could write so long a letter. Old loves to, and hope of kind looks from, the Gilmans, when I come.
Yours semper idem C.L.
If you ever thought an offence, much more wrote it, against me, it must have been in the times of Noah; and the great waters swept it away. Mary's most kind love, and maybe a wrong prophet of your bodings!—here she is crying for mere love over your letter. I wring out less, but not sincerer, showers.
My direction is simply, Enfield.
[Mr. Dykes Campbell's comment upon this note is that it was written to remove some mistaken sick-man's fancy.]
LETTER 543
CHARLES LAMB TO JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES
[No date. ? April, 1832.]
Dear Kn.—I will not see London again without seeing your pleasant Play. In meanwhile, pray, send three or four orders to a Lady who can't afford to pay: Miss James, No. 1 Grove Road, Lisson Grove, Paddington, a day or two before—and come and see us some Evening with my hitherto uncorrupted and honest bookseller
Moxon. C. LAMB.
[I have dated this April, 1832, because it may refer to Knowles' play
"The Hunchback," produced April 5, 1832. It might also possibly refer to
"The Wife" of a year later, but I think not.]
LETTER 544
CHARLES LAMB TO JOHN FORSTER
[? Late April, 1832.]
One day in my life
Do come. C.L.
I have placed poor Mary at Edmonton—
I shall be very glad to see the Hunch Back and Straitback the 1st Even'g they can come. I am very poorly indeed. I have been cruelly thrown out. Come and don't let me drink too much. I drank more yesterday than I ever did any one day in my life.
C.L.
Do come.
Cannot your Sister come and take a half bed—or a whole one? Which, alas, we have to spare.
[Mary Lamb would have been taken to Walden House, Edmonton, where mental patients were received. A year later the Lambs moved there altogether.
The Hunchback would be Knowles; the Straitback I do not recognise.
John Forster (1812-1876), whom we now meet for the first time, one of Lamb's last new friends, was the author, later, of Lives of the Statesmen of the Commonwealth and the Lives also of Goldsmith and of Landor and Dickens, whose close friend he was. His Life of Pym, which was in Vol. II. of the Statesman, did not appear until 1837, but I assume that he had ridden the hobby for some years.]
LETTER 545
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON (?)
[P.M. June 1, 1832.]
I am a little more than half alive— I was more than half dead— the Ladies are very agreeable— I flatter myself I am less than disagreeable— Convey this to Mr. Forster— Whom, with you, I shall just be able to see some 10 days hence and believe me ever yours C.L.
I take Forster's name to be John, But you know whom I mean, the Pym-praiser not pimp-raiser.
[This letter possibly is not to Moxon at all, as the wrapper (on which is the postmark) may belong to another letter.]
LETTER 546
CHARLES LAMB TO THOMAS ALLSOP
July 2, 1832.
AT midsummer or soon after (I will let you know the previous day), I will take a day with you in the purlieus of my old haunts. No offence has been taken, any more than meant. My house is full at present, but empty of its chief pride. She is dead to me for many months. But when I see you, then I will say, Come and see me. With undiminished friendship to you both,
Your faithful but queer C.L.
How you frighted me! Never write again, "Coleridge is dead," at the end of a line, and tamely come in with "to his friends" at the beginning of another. Love is quicker, and fear from love, than the transition ocular from Line to Line.
LETTER 547
CHARLES LAMB TO WALTER WILSON
[Dated at end: Aug., 1832.]
My dear Wilson, I cannot let my old friend Mrs. Hazlitt (Sister in Law to poor Wm. Hazlitt) leave Enfield, without endeavouring to introduce her to you, and to Mrs. Wilson. Her daughter has a School in your neighbourhood, and for her talents and by [for] her merits I can answer. If it lies in your power to be useful to them in any way, the obligation to your old office-fellow will be great. I have not forgotten Mrs. Wilson's Album, and if you, or she, will be the means of procuring but one pupil for Miss Hazlitt, I will rub up my poor poetic faculty to the best. But you and she will one day, I hope, bring the Album with you to Enfield— Poor Mary is ill, or would send her love—
Yours very Truly
C. LAMB.
News.—Collet is dead, Du Puy is dead. I am not.—Hone! is turned
Believer in Irving and his unknown Tongues.
In the name of dear Defoe which alone might be a Bond of Union between us, Adieu!
[Mrs. Hazlitt was the wife of John Hazlitt, the miniature painter, who died in 1837. I have been unable to trace her daughter's history.
Collet I do not recognise. Probably an old fellow-clerk at the India House, as was Du Puy. It is true that Hone was converted by Irving, and became himself a preacher.]
LETTER 548
CHARLES LAMB TO HENRY CRABB ROBINSON
[No date. ? Early October, 1832.]
For Lander's kindness I have just esteem. I shall tip him a Letter, when you tell me how to address him.
Give Emma's kindest regrets that I could not entice her good friend, your Nephew, here.
Her warmest love to the Bury Robinsons—our all three to
H. Crab. C.L.
[Mr. Macdonald's transcript adds: "Accompanying copy of Lander's verses to Emma Isola, and others, contributed to Miss Wordsworth's Album, and poem written at Wast-water. C.L."
The Bury Robinsons were Crabb Robinson's brother and other relatives, whom Miss Isola had met when at Fornham.]
LETTER 549
CHARLES LAMB TO WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR
[No date. October, 1832.]
Dear Sir, pray accept a little volume. 'Tis a legacy from Elia, you'll see. Silver and Gold had he none, but such as he had, left he you. I do not know how to thank you for attending to my request about the Album. I thought you would never remember it. Are not you proud and thankful, Emma?
Yes, very, both— EMMA ISOLA.
Many things I had to say to you, which there was not time for. One why should I forget? 'tis for Rose Aylmer, which has a charm I cannot explain. I lived upon it for weeks.—
Next I forgot to tell you I knew all your Welch annoyancers, the measureless Beethams. I knew a quarter of a mile of them. 17 brothers and 16 sisters, as they appear to me in memory. There was one of them that used to fix his long legs on my fender, and tell a story of a shark, every night, endless, immortal. How have I grudged the salt sea ravener not having had his gorge of him!
The shortest of the daughters measured 5 foot eleven without her shoes. Well, some day we may confer about them. But they were tall. Surely I have discover'd the longitude—
Sir, If you can spare a moment, I should be happy to hear from you—that rogue Robinson detained your verses, till I call'd for them. Don't entrust a bit of prose to the rogue, but believe me
Your obliged C.L.
My Sister sends her kind regards.
[Crabb Robinson took Landor to see Lamb on September 28, 1832. The following passage in Forster's Life of Landor describes the visit and explains this letter:—
The hour he passed with Lamb was one of unalloyed enjoyment. A letter from Crabb Robinson before he came over had filled him with affection for that most lovable of men, who had not an infirmity to which his sweetness of nature did not give something of kinship to a virtue. "I have just seen Charles and Mary Lamb," Crabb Robinson had written (20th October, 1831), "living in absolute solitude at Enfield. I find your poems lying open before Lamb. Both tipsy and sober he is ever muttering Rose Aylmer. But it is not those lines only that have a curious fascination for him. He is always turning to Gebir for things that haunt him in the same way." Their first and last hour was now passed together, and before they parted they were old friends. I visited Lamb myself (with Barry Cornwall) the following month, and remember the boyish delight with which he read to us the verses which Landor has written in the album of Emma Isola. He had just received them through Robinson, and had lost little time in making rich return by sending Landor his Last Essays of Elia.
These were Landor's verses:—
TO EMMA ISOLA
Etrurian domes, Pelasgian walls,
Live fountains, with their nymphs around
Terraced and citron-scented halls,
Skies smiling upon sacred ground—
The giant Alps, averse to France,
Point with impatient pride to those,
Calling the Briton to advance,
Amid eternal rocks and snows—
I dare not bid him stay behind,
I dare not tell him where to see
The fairest form, the purest mind,
Ausonia! that e'er sprang from thee,
and this is "Rose Aylmer";—
Ah what avails the sceptred race!
Ah what the form divine!
What every virtue, every grace!
Rose Aylmer, all were thine.
Rose Aylmer, whom these wakeful eyes
May weep, but never see,
A night of memories and of sighs
I consecrate to thee.
Of the measureless Bethams Lamb wrote in similar terms, but more fully, in an article in the New Times in 1825, entitled "Many Friends" (see Vol. I.).
On April 9, 1834, Landor wrote to Lady Blessington:—
I do not think that you ever knew Charles Lamb, who is lately dead.
Robinson took me to see him.
"Once, and once only, have I seen thy face,
Elia! once only has thy tripping tongue
Run o'er my heart, yet never has been left
Impression on it stronger or more sweet.
Cordial old man! what youth was in thy years,
What wisdom in thy levity, what soul
In every utterance of thy purest breast!
Of all that ever wore man's form,'tis thee
I first would spring to at the gate of Heaven."
I say tripping tongue, for Charles Lamb stammered and spoke hurriedly. He did not think it worth while to put on a fine new coat to come down and see me in, as poor Coleridge did, but met me as if I had been a friend of twenty years' standing; indeed, he told me I had been so, and shewed me some things I had written much longer ago, and had utterly forgotten. The world will never see again two such delightful volumes as "The Essays of Elia;" no man living is capable of writing the worst twenty pages of them. The Continent has Zadig and Gil Bias, we have Elia and Sir Roger de Coverly.
Mrs. Fields, writing in the Atlantic Monthly for April, 1866, on Landor, says that Landor told her of his visit to Lamb and said that Lamb read to him some poetry and asked his opinion of it. Landor said it was very good, whereupon Lamb laughed and called Landor the vainest of men, for it was his own.
In a letter to Southey the lines differed, ending thus:
Few are the spirits of the glorified
I'd spring to earlier at the gate of Heaven.]
LETTER 550
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[Late 1832.]
A poor mad usher (and schoolfellow of mine) has been pestering me through you with poetry and petitions. I have desired him to call upon you for a half sovereign, which place to my account.
I have buried Mrs. Reynolds at last, who has virtually at least bequeath'd me a legacy of £32 per Ann., to which add that my other pensioner is safe housed in the workhouse, which gets me £10.
Richer by both legacies £42 per Ann.
For a loss of a loss is as good as a gain of a gain.
But let this be between ourselves, specially keep it from A——- or I shall speedily have candidates for the Pensions.
Mary is laid up with a cold.
Will you convey the inclosed by hand?
When you come, if you ever do, bring me one Devil's Visit, I mean Southey's; also the Hogarth which is complete, Noble's I think. Six more letters to do. Bring my bill also. C.L.
[I do not identify the usher. Mrs. Reynolds, Lamb's first schoolmistress, we have met. The other pensioner I do not positively identify; presumably it was Morgan, Coleridge's old friend, to whom Lamb and Southey had each given ten pounds annually from 1819.
A——- I cannot positively identify. Perhaps the philanthropic Allsop.
Southey's "Devil's Visit" was a new edition of The Devil's Walk illustrated by Thomas Landseer.
Noble's "Hogarth." Noble was the engraver.]
LETTER 551
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[No date. Winter, 1832.]
Thank you for the books. I am ashamed to take tythe thus of your press. I am worse to a publisher than the two Universities and the Brit. Mus. A[llan] C[unningham] I will forthwith read. B[arry] C[ornwall] (I can't get out of the A, B, C) I have more than read. Taken altogether, 'tis too Lovey; but what delicacies! I like most "King Death;" glorious 'bove all, "The Lady with the Hundred Rings;" "The Owl;" "Epistle to What's his Name" (here may be I'm partial); "Sit down, Sad Soul;" "The Pauper's Jubilee" (but that's old, and yet 'tis never old); "The Falcon;" "Felon's Wife;" damn "Madame Pasty" (but that is borrowed);
Apple-pie is very good,
And so is apple-pasty;
But—
O Lard! 'tis very nasty:
but chiefly the dramatic fragments,—scarce three of which should have escaped my Specimens, had an antique name been prefixed. They exceed his first. So much for the nonsense of poetry; now to the serious business of life. Up a court (Blandford Court) in Pall Mall (exactly at the back of Marlbro' House), with iron gate in front, and containing two houses, at No. 2 did lately live Leishman my taylor. He is moved somewhere in the neighbourhood, devil knows where. Pray find him out, and give him the opposite. I am so much better, tho' my hand shakes in writing it, that, after next Sunday, I can well see F[orster] and you. Can you throw B.C. in? Why tarry the wheels of my Hogarth?
CHARLES LAMB.
["I am worse to a publisher." There is a rule by which a publisher must present copies of every book to the Stationers' Hall, to be distributed to the British Museum, the Bodleian, and Cambridge University Library.
"A.C…. B.C." Allan Cunningham's Maid of Elvar and Barry Cornwall's English Songs, both published by Moxon. This is Barry Cornwall's "King Death":—
KING DEATH
King Death was a rare old fellow!
He sate where no sun could shine;
And he lifted his hand so yellow,
And poured out his coal-black wine.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
There came to him many a Maiden,
Whose eyes had forgot to shine;
And Widows, with grief o'erladen,
For a draught of his sleepy wine.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
The Scholar left all his learning;
The Poet his fancied woes;
And the Beauty her bloom returning,
Like life to the fading rose.
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
All came to the royal old fellow,
Who laugh'd till his eyes dropped brine,
As he gave them his hand so yellow,
And pledged them in Death's black wine.
Hurrah!—Hurrah!
Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!
By the "Epistle to What's his Name" Lamb refers to some lines to himself which had been printed first in the London Magazine in 1825, entitled "The Epistle to Charles Lamb." See in the Appendix.
"Madame Pasty." Procter had some lines on Madame Pasta.
"My Specimens." Lamb's Dramatic Specimens, which very likely suggested to Procter the idea of "Dramatic Fragments."
Under the date November 30, 1832, an unsigned letter endorsed "From Charles Lamb to Professor Wilson" is printed in Mrs. Gordon's "Christopher North:" A Memoir of John Wilson. Although in its first paragraph it might be Lamb's, there is evidence to the contrary in the remainder, and I have no doubt that the endorsement was a mistake. It is therefore not printed here.]
LETTER 552
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[Dated by Forster at end: Dec., 1832.]
This is my notion. Wait till you are able to throw away a round sum (say £1500) upon a speculation, and then —don't do it. For all your loving encouragem'ts—till this final damp came in the shape of your letter, thanks—for Books also—greet the Fosters and Proctors—and come singly or conjunctively as soon as you can. Johnson and Fare's sheets have been wash'd—unless you prefer Danby's last bed—at the Horseshoe.
[I assume Lamb's advice to refer to Moxon's intention of founding a paper called The Reflector, which Forster was to edit. All trace of this periodical has vanished, but it existed in December, 1832, for three numbers, and was then withdrawn. Lamb contributed to it.
Johnson and Fare had just murdered—on December l9—a Mr. Danby, at
Enfield. They had met him in the Crown and Horseshoes (see note to next
Letter).
Mr. W.C. Hazlitt prints a note to Moxon in his Bohn edition in which
Lamb advises the withdrawal of The Reflector at once. This would be
December, 1832.]
LETTER 553
CHARLES LAMB TO JOHN FORSTER
To Messrs. Bradbury & Evans, 14 Bouverie Street, Fleet Street. For the
Editor of the Reflector from C. Lamb.
[P.M. Dec. 23, 1832.]
I am very sorry the poor Reflector is abortive. Twas a child of good promise for its weeks. But if the chances are so much against it, withdraw immediately. It is idle up hill waste of money to spend another stamp on it.
[Around the seal of this note are the words in Lamb's hand: "Obiit Edwardus Reflector Armiger, 31 Dec., 1832. Natus tres hebdomidas. Pax animae ejus."
The newspaper stamp at that time was fourpence (less 25 per cent.).
Here should come a letter from Lamb to Louisa Badams (née Holcroft), dated December 31, 1832, not available for this edition, in which, after some plain speaking about the Westwoods, Lamb refers to the murder of Mr. Danby at Enfield by Fare and two other men on the night of December 19, and says that he had been in their company at the inn a little before, and the next morning was asked to give his evidence. Canon Ainger says that Lamb's story is a hoax, but it reads reasonably enough and might as easily have happened as not.]
LETTER 554
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[No date. Jan., 1833.]
I have a proof from Dilke. That serves for next Saturday. What Forster had, will serve a second. I sent you a third concluding article for him and us (a capital hit, I think, about Cervantes) of which I leave you to judge whether we shall not want it to print before a third or even second week. In that case beg D. to clap them in all at once; and keep the Atheneums to print from. What I send is the concluding Article of the painters.
Soften down the Title in the Book to
"Defect of the Imaginative Faculty in Artists."
Consult Dilke.
[Lamb's Elia essay "Barrenness of the Imaginative Faculty in the Production of Modern Art," intended originally for The Englishman's Magazine, was partly printed by Forster in The Reflector and finally printed in full in The Athenaeum in January and February, 1833. The reference to Don Quixote is at the end. Moxon was already printing the Last Essays of Elia.
"Consult Dilke" was a favourite phrase with Lamb and Hood and, long before, with Keats.]
LETTER 555
CHARLES LAMB TO EDWARD MOXON
[P.M. Jan. 3(1833).]
Be sure and let me have the Atheneum—or, if they don't appear, the Copy back again. I have no other.
I am glad you are introduced to Rickman, cultivate the introduction. I will not forget to write to him.
I want to see Blackwood, but not without you.
We are yet Emma-less.
And so that is all I can remember.
This is a corkscrew.
[Here is a florid corkscrew.]
C. Lamb, born 1775 flourished about the year 1832.
C.L. Fecit.—
[Lamb refers still to the "Barrenness of Imagination" series.
There are several scraps addressed by Lamb to Forster in the South Kensington Museum; but they are undated and of little importance. I append one or two here:—]
LETTER 556
CHARLES LAMB TO JOHN FORSTER
[No date.]
Orders.
Go to Dilke's, or Let Mockson, and ax him to add this to what I sent him a few days since, or to continue it the week after. The Plantas &c. are capital.
Requests.
Come down with M. and Dante and L.E.L. on Sunday.
ELIA.
I don't mean at his House, but the Atheneum office. Send it there. Hand shakes.
[The Plantas would probably be a reference to the family of Joseph
Plantas of the British Museum. M. and Dante and L.E.L. would be Moxon,
Cary and Letitia Landon, the poetess, to whom Forster was for a while
engaged.
This letter, up to a certain point, was repeated as follows. It also is at South Kensington:—]