Some Unpublished Letters of Charles and Mary Lamb

THE correspondence of Charles Lamb stands on a unique basis, when we consider its extent, its importance, and the long series of years over which it spreads. Strictly speaking, it is not a correspondence at all; for we have, with three or four casual exceptions, merely the letters addressed by the writer to his friends and others, while those received by him have perished by the hand, not of undiscerning or too fastidious representatives, but of the recipient himself at or near the time. The accepted notion is that, in a frenzy, he destroyed all the letters which he had had from Coleridge, and formed a resolution thenceforth to preserve nothing else of the sort. But, whether such be or be not the case, the fact is clear enough, and we are compelled to infer from the tenor of the replies what were the topic and nature of the communications made to the Lambs.

The loss of the invaluable assemblage of epistolary documents once in the hands of Lamb and his sister is ascribable to an impulse which was as disastrous and deplorable as it was obviously unhealthy or morbid. Yet it is possible to comprehend how, in the depth of the mental distress and despondency which attended and followed the death of his mother and the pronounced insanity of his sister. Lamb may have wildly imagined that it was better to cast away all clues and renounce all ties tending to recall or bring into distincter prominence the dismal tragedy and its sequel. There must have been moments when he repented of what he had done, and, as we have suggested, he consigned to the flames everything which came to his hands as soon as it was read and answered, that the fruits of a mad fit might be invested with an aspect of consistency and design.

Apart from the consideration of letters irretrievably lost, the reader must bear in mind that those actually published have suffered more or less at the hands of editors. It is obvious that, in dealing with the question of letters imperfectly rendered from one motive or another, it would be as impracticable as it would be inexpedient to do more than exemplify the damage which has befallen the Lamb correspondence through the incorrect or incomplete presentment of his epistolary compositions. The process of corruption has exhausted almost every conceivable phase, and is infinitely varied in nature and degree. Sometimes entire paragraphs, occasionally all but a portion of a letter, are withheld. In other cases, words or expressions are altered to suit conventional, or supposed conventional, exigencies. Under these two categories fall the liberties which have been taken with the text of the letters, and for which the remedy is of course far slower and more difficult than was the commission of the mischief. We do not advocate the retention of phrases, which may occur here and there, and may tend to inspire an unfavorable prejudice, perfectly consonant as they were with the feeling of the writer’s time ; but the sophistication of Lamb’s language has been dictated in far too many instances by the most inconsiderate prudery, when it has not proceeded from sheer negligence in transcription or in oversight of the proofs.

It is easier to explain than to justify the slips of the pen and the press in superintending such a book as an assemblage of modern letters. We are all, perhaps, too prone to imagine that a transcript will do as well as the original, and that the comparison of the former with the autograph is a piece of supererogation. The editor of an ancient manuscript or an early play laboriously and minutely examines every word, almost every stop, and cheerfully and as a matter of course enters on the irksome task of collecting all extant copies ; but when he finds himself in the position of preparing for the printer and the public a body of matter left behind him by an author who seems almost his contemporary, and around whom no atmosphere has yet had time to collect, the sense of editorial obligation is unconsciously and instinctively slacker or duller ; and to this agency we ascribe the otherwise inexplicable phenomenon that during fifty-three years a succession of gentlemen, all more or less competent to discharge the duty which has been imposed upon them, has signally failed to place the world in possession and enjoyment of an exhaustive edition of the Lamb correspondence. The fault and the blame have been all along on the side of Lamb’s editors; for the cases in which assistance has been refused by owners of letters are quite the exception, and those communications which no longer survive are beside the question.

It almost appears, extravagant as the idea and proposition may strike some, as if nothing but the formation of a syndicate would be successful in attaining the object in view thoroughly and definitively. For legal technicalities, prejudice, and jealousy, not to mention indifference, are insurmountable obstacles in the path of any and every individual laborer. The extent of the field is so great and the means of verification so scattered that, when one has done one’s utmost to secure completeness and fidelity, unknown or inaccessible material is bound to exist in some obscure corner, and perhaps to come to light too late for use. Time does much here; and each successive publication of the letters is a step, at all events, in the right direction. Nay, it is not impossible that within a measurable interval it may become a good deal more.

On the very threshold we arrive at some notion and estimate of the loss which has been sustained by Lamb through the carelessness, indiscretion, or fastidiousness of his several recensors. In those fine monuments of his youthful impressions and sorrows, the eighteenth-century letters to Coleridge, we detect on examination the most serious tampering with the text, and generally in the absence of any adequate motive or excuse. Passages illustrating the biography of Lamb and his relationships with the friends of the first epoch have been silently excised or passed over, forms of expression have been modified to suit some fantastic effeminacies, and even dates have been wrongly interpreted from postmarks or internal evidence. Some of these blemishes the present writer and Canon Ainger have succeeded in removing, — some, but by no means all. The momentous Coleridge letters from 1796 to 1802 still demand the most positive scrutiny and revision. Let us hasten to exemplify our meaning and to support our indictment by furnishing the letter of December 9, 1796, as it left Lamb’s hands.

Canon Ainger has, unfortunately, preserved the error of Talfourd in placing this letter among the correspondence of 1797 ; that is to say, in postdating it by a twelvemonth. We have used the autograph. It should be noticed as a remarkable and entertaining trait of the intellectual and moral character of Coleridge that, while this correspondence was proceeding between Lamb and himself on the merits of their respective composition, Coleridge concocted those clever parodies on his own as well as his friends’ styles, which he tells us that he sent to the Monthly Magazine in 1797 under the signature " Nathaniel Higginbotham.” We fancy that this circumstance escaped the observation of Lamb ; at least, in his letters to Coleridge as they are printed there is no allusion to it.

I. TO S. T. COLERIDGE.¹

[LITTLE QUEEN STREET, Night of December 9, 1796. Postmarked December 10, 1796.]

I am sorry I cannot now relish your poetical present ² as thoroughly as I feel it deserves ; but I do not the less thank Lloyd and you for it. In truth, Coleridge, I am perplexed, and at times almost cast down. I am beset with perplexities. The old hag of a wealthy relation, who took my aunt off our hands in the beginning of trouble, has found out that she is “ indolent and mulish,”— I quote her own words, — and that her attachment to us is so strong that she can never be happy apart. The Lady, with delicate Irony, remarks that, if I am not an Hypocrite, I shall rejoyce to receive her again, and that it will be a means of making me more fond of home to have so dear a friend to come home to! The fact is she is jealous of my aunt’s bestowing any kind recollections on us, while she enjoys the patronage of her roof. She says she finds it inconsistent “ ease and tranquility ” to keep her any longer, and in fine summons me to fetch her home. Now, much as I should rejoyce to transplant the poor old creature from the chilling air of such patronage, yet I know how straitened we are already, how unable already to answer any demand, which sickness or any extraordinary expence may make. I know this, and all unused as I am to struggle with perplexities, I am somewhat nonplusd, to say no worse. This prevents me from a thorough relish of what Lloyd’s kindness and yours have furnished me with. I thank you tho from my heart, and feel myself not quite alone in the earth.

Before I offer, what alone I have to offer, a few obvious remarks on the poems you sent me, I can but notice the odd coincidence of two young men, in one age, carolling their grandmothers. Love,— what L[loyd] calls “the feverish and romantic tye,” hath too long domineerd over all the charities of home: the dear domestic tyes of father, brother, husband. The amiable and benevolent Cowper has a beautiful passage in his “Task,” — some natural and painful reflections on his deceased parents: and Hayley’s sweet lines to his mother are notoriously the best things he ever wrote. Cowper’s lines ³ some of them are —

I cannot but wish to see my Granny so gayly deck’d forth, tho’, I think, whoever altered “thy” praises to “her” praises — “ thy ” honoured memory to “her” honoured memory—did wrong, they best exprest my feelings. There is a pensive state of recollection, in which the mind is disposed to apostrophise the departed objects of its attachment; and breaking loose from grammatical precision, changes from the 1st to the 3rd, and from the 3rd to the 1st person, just as the random fancy or feeling directs. Among Lloyd’s sonnets, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 11th are eminently beautiful. I think him too lavish of his expletives; the dos and dids, when they occur too often, bring a quaintness with them along with their simplicity, or rather air of antiquity, which the patrons of them seem desirous of conveying.

To which are now added Poems by Charles Lloyd and Charles Lamb, 1797.

The lines on Friday are very pleasing— “Yet calls itself in pride of Infancy woman or man,” &c. “ affection’s tottering troop ” — are prominent beauties. Another time, when my mind were more at ease, I could be more particular in my remarks, and I would postpone them now, only I want some diversion of mind. The “ Melancholy Man ” is a charming piece of poetry, only the “ whys ” with submission are too many. Yet the questions are too good to be any of ’em omitted. For those lines of yours, page 18, omitted in magazine, I think the 3 first better retain’d — the 3 last, which are somewhat simple in the most affronting sense of the word, better omitted — to this my taste directs me — I have no claim to prescribe to you. “ Their slothful loves and dainty sympathies ” is an exquisite line, but you knew that when you wrote ’em, and I trifle in pointing such out. Tis altogether the sweetest thing to me you ever wrote — tis all honey — “No wish profaned my overwhelmed heart, Blest hour, it was a Luxury to be.” I recognise feelings, which I may taste again, if tranquility has not taken his flight for ever, and I will not believe but I shall be happy, very happy again. The next poem to your friend is very beautiful — need I instance the pretty fancy of “the rock’s collected tears” — or that original line “pour’d all its healthful greenness on the soul ” — let it be, since you ask me, “ as neighbouring fountains each reflect the whole ” — tho’ that is somewhat harsh — indeed the ending is not so finish’d as the rest, which if you omit in your forthcoming edition, you will do the volume wrong, and the very binding will cry out. Neither shall you omit the 2 following poems. “The hour when we shall meet again,” is fine fancy tis true, but fancy catering in the Service of the feeling — fetching from her stores most splendid banquets to satisfy her. Do not, do not omit it. Your sonnet to the River Otter excludes those equally beautiful lines, which deserve not to be lost, “ as the tired savage,” &c. and I prefer that copy in your Watchman. I plead for its preference.

Another time I may notice more particularly Lloyd’s, Southey’s, Dermody’s Sonnets. I shrink from them now : my teazing lot makes me too confused for a clear judgment of things, too selfish for sympathy; and these ill-digested, meaningless remarks I have imposed on myself as a task, to lull reflection, as well as to show you I did not neglect reading your valuable present. Return my acknowledgments to Lloyd ; you two appear to be about realising an Elysium upon earth, and, no doubt, I shall be happier. Take my best wishes. Remember me most affectionately to Mrs. C. and give little David Hartley — God bless its little heart! — a kiss for me. Bring him up to know the meaning of his Christian name, and what that name (imposed upon him) will demand of him.

C. LAMB.

God love you!

I write for one thing to say that I shall write no more, till you send me word where you are, for you are so soon to move. My sister is pretty well, thank God. We think of you very often. God bless you, continue to be my correspondent, and I will strive to fancy that this world is not “ all barrenness.”

[Endorsed] Samuel T. Coleridge, Bristol.

We proceed to lay before our readers a score of letters and notes, of which all but two are now first printed. The first of our collection is from Mary Lamb, and was written subsequently to the removal of the brother and sister from the Temple and the alteration of their reception day.

II. MISS LAMB TO MISS MATILDA BETHAM.

[20 RUSSELL STREET, COVENT GARDEN, about 1818.]

MY DEAR MATILDA, — Coleridge has given me a very chearful promise that he will wait on Lady Jerningham any day you will be pleased to appoint; he offered to write to you; but I found it was to be done tomorrow, and as I am pretty well acquainted with his tomorrows, I thought good to let you know his determination today. He is in town today, but as he is often going to Hammersmith for a night or two, you had better perhaps send the invitation through me, and I will manage it for you as well as I can. You had better let him have four or five days’ previous notice, and you had better send the invitation as soon as you can; for he seems tolerably well just now. I mention all these betters, because I wish to do the best I can for you, perceiving, as I do, it is a thing you have set your heart upon. He dined one [a word or two torn off] ... ay in company with Catilana (is that the way you spell her Italian name ? — I am reading Sallust, and had like to have written Catiline). How I should have liked, and how you would have liked, to have seen Coleridge and Catilana together!

You have been very good of late to let me come and see you so seldom, and you are a little goodish to come so seldom here, because you stay away from a kind motive. But if you stay away always, as I fear you mean to do, I would not give one pin for your good intentions. In plain words, come and see me very soon; for though I be not sensitive as some people, I begin to feel strange qualms for having driven you from me.

Yours affectionately M. LAMB.

Wednesday.

Alas ! Wednesday shines no more to me now.

Miss Duncan played famously in the new comedy, which went off as famously. By the way, she put in a spiteful piece of wit, I verily believe of her own head; and methought she stared me full in the face. The words were " As silent as an author in company.” Her hair and herself looked remarkably well.

[Endorsed] Miss Betham, 49 Upper Marybone Street.

The Miss Duncan named in the postscript was the actress who took part, in the absence of Mrs. Jordan, in Holcroft’s play of the Vindictive Man, which was brought out and damned in 1806.

Our next is a note to the publishers of Lamb’s Works, as they were called on the title-page, in 1818, in two duodecimo volumes. The book was nearly out of the printer’s hands.

III. C. LAMB TO THE MESSRS. OLLIER.

[28 May, 1818.]

DEAR SIR, — The last sheet is finish’d. All that remains is the Title page and the Contents, which should be uniform with vol. 1. Will you be kind enough to see to it ? There is a Sonnet to come in by way of dedication. I have not the sheet, so I cannot make out the Table of Contents, but it may be done from the various Essays, Letters, &c. by you, or the Printer, as thus. [Here follows a rough sketch of the writer’s plan.]

Yours in Haste. C. LAMB. Let me see the last proof, sonnet, &c. Messrs. Ollier, Booksellers, Vere Street, Oxford Street.

The letter was directed in the singular number, that either of the brothers might open it. The Olliers figure in the correspondence during some years.

A note of about the same date from Miss Lamb to Mrs. J. D. Collier, mother of the antiquary, was written on behalf of the only unmarried Miss Fricker.

IV.MISS LAMB TO MRS. COLLIER.

[No date.]

DEAR MRS. C., — This note will be given you by a young friend ⁴ of mine, whom I wish you would employ; she has commenced business as a mantuamaker and if you and my girls⁵ would try her, I think she would fit you all three, and it will be doing her an essential service. She is, I think, very deserving, and if you procure work for her, among your friends and acquaintances, so much the better. My best love to you and my girls. We are both well.

Yours affectionately,

MARY Lamb.⁶

The connection of Lamb with the London Magazine, it is stated by Talfourd. through the introduction of Hazlitt brought him into contact with John Scott, the accomplished and ill-fated editor of that periodical. The few lines below allude to some trifling contribution for the Poets’ Corner.

V.TO JOHN SCOTT.

DR SIR, — I sent you yesterday by the 2d post 2 small copies of verses directd by mistake to N. 8 York St. if you have not recd them, pray favor me with a line. From your not writing, I shall conclude you have got them.

Yours respfly C. LAMB. Thursday 24 Aug. ‘20. E. I. H. [Endorsed] J. Scott Esqr. 4 York Street Covt Garden.

Ainger and Hazlitt print two letters from Lamb to William Harrison Ainsworth, at the time a mere youth, but beginning to interest himself in literary matters. They are dated respectively December 9 and 29, 1823 ; it may be pointed out that the Warner received as a book offered for Lamb’s acceptance, and eventually retained by him, was a poetical volume entitled Syrinx, 1597, by that writer, and not, as has always been imagined, his Albion’s England. The copy which belonged to Lamb is now in the Dyce Collection.

But the acquaintance with Ainsworth had commenced some time before the unpublished letter, which we shall presently give, and which goes back to the May of 1822; for then Lamb had lent his Manchester correspondent a copy of Cyril Tourneur’s play or plays, in which Ainsworth must have shown his interest. Doubtless several letters have to be recovered, or are lost. Altogether, the one here first printed is as interesting as the couple in type.

VI.TO WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH.

DEAR SIR, — I have read your poetry with pleasure. The tales are pretty and prettily told, the language often finely poetical. It is only sometimes a little careless, I mean as to redundancy. I have marked certain passages (in pencil only, which will easily obliterate) for your consideration. Excuse this liberty. For the distinction you offer me of a dedication, I feel the honor of it, but I do not think it would advantage the publication. I am hardly on an eminence enough to warrant it. The Reviewers, who are no friends of mine — the two big ones especially who make a point of taking no notice of anything I bring out—may take occasion by it to decry us both. But I leave you to your own judgment. Perhaps, if you wish to give me a kind word, it will be more appropriate before your republication of Tourneur.

The ” Specimens ” would give a handle to it, which the poems might seem to want. But I submit it to yourself with the old recollection that " beggars should not be chusers ” and remain with great respect and wishing success to both your publications

Your obet Sert C. LAMB.

No hurry at all for Tourneur.⁷

Tuesday 7 May ’22.

[Endorsed] W. H. Ainsworth Esq.

The correspondence of the Lambs with the Kenney family was rather suspected than absolutely ascertained, till of late years. Two letters to Kenney were furnished by the present writer, and Canon Ainger has added a third, a remarkably beautiful one, — a bipartite production to Mrs. Kenney and her daughter, Sophy Holcroft, afterwards married to Dr. Jefferson of Leamington. We have met this lady more than once. Now we cap this triplet with a fourth, from Miss Lamb to Mrs. Kenney, also composed, of course, after the visit to France, in 1822, and the return of Miss Lamb herself in September. The second division of the letter, directed to Sophy Holcroft, recalls those delightful effusions of Southey to his children. We regret our inability to decipher the whole of Miss Fanny Kelly’s accompaniment.

VII. MISS LAMB TO MRS. KENNEY.⁸

[About October, 1822.]

MY DEAR FRIEND, — How do you like Harwood ? ⁹ Is he not a noble boy ? I congratulate you most heartily on this happy meeting, and only wish I were present to witness it. Come back with Harwood, I am dying to see you — we will talk, that is, you shall talk and I will listen from ten in the morning till twelve at night. My thoughts are often with you, and your children’s dear faces are perpetually before me. Give them all one additional kiss every morning for me. Remember there’s one for Louisa, one to Ellen, one to Betsy,¹⁰ one to Sophia, one to James, one to Teresa, one to Virginia, and one to Charles. Bless them all ! When shall I ever see them again? Thank you a thousand times for all your kindness to me. I know you will make light of the trouble my illness gave you; but the recollection of it often sits heavy on my heart. If I could ensure my health, how happy should I be to spend a month with you every summer!

When I met Mr. Kenn[e]y there, I sadly repented that I had not dragged you on to Dieppe with me. What a pleasant time we should have spent there !

You shall not be jealous of Mr. Payne.¹¹ Remember he did Charles and I good service without grudge or grumbling. Say to him how much I regret that we owe him unreturnable ; for I still have my old fear that we shall never see him again. I received great pleasure from seeing his two successful pieces. My love to your boy Kenney, my boy James, and all my dear girls, and also to Rose ; I hope she still drinks wine with you. Thank Lou-Lou ¹² for her little bit of letter. I am in a fearful hurry, or I would write to her. Tell my friend the Poetess that I expect some french verses from her shortly. I have shewn Betsy’s and Sophy’s letters to all who came near me, and they have been very much admired. Dear Fanny brought me the bag. Good soul you are to think of me ! Manning ¹³ has promised to make Fanny a visit this morning, happy girl! Miss James ¹⁴ I often see, I think never without talking of you. Oh the dear long dreary Boulevards ! how I do wish to be just now stepping out of a Cuckoo ¹⁵ into them !

Farewel, old tried friend, may we meet again! Would you could bring your house with all its noisy inmates, and plant it, garden, gables and all, in the midst of Covent Garden.

Yours ever most affectionately

M. LAMB.

My best respects to your good neighbours.

[Endorsed] Mrs. Kenney.

Miss Kelly’s scrap, written very faintly across the outside of the sheet, runs as follows : —

“ The real old original Fanny Kelly takes this opportunity of assuring Mrs. Kenney that she remembers with pleasure them all. Oh, how imperfect is expression ” [The rest, through the faint ink employed and the creasing of the paper, has become illegible ; but the substance is that Miss Kelly hoped soon to have an opportunity of squeezing Mrs. Kenney’s hand, and showing her respectful and grateful attachment.]

John Hamilton Reynolds, in his Rejected Articles, 1826, sometimes wrongly ascribed to P. G. Patmore, begins with An Unsentimental Journey, by Elia, which is nothing more than a fabrication by himself, based on his own experiences of French hotels and localities. He does not even mention that Lamb had a companion on his trip, and several friends at Paris and other points. The following letter, or note, to Miss Matilda Betham is safely assignable, we conceive, to that period just antecedent to Lamb’s retirement from the India House, when he began to grow restless and impatient, and to give vent to his feelings in no measured terms. Of course it is more or less hazardous to fix the date within this certain space, since even so early as the end of 1818, in writing to Coleridge, Lamb inveighs against official drudgery and confinement.

VIII. TO MISS MATILDA BETHAM.

DR MISS B., — Mr. Hunter has this morning put into a Parcel all I have received from you at various times, including a sheet of notes from the Printer and two fair sheets of Mary. I hope you will receive them safe. The poem I will continue to look over, but must request you to provide for the rest. I cannot attend to anything but the most simple things. I am very much unhinged indeed. Tell K. I saw Mrs. K. yesterday and she was well. You must write to Hunter if you are in a hurry for the notes &c.

Yours sincerely C. L.

Saturday.

Shall I direct the Printer to send you fair sheets, as they are printed ?

There now comes a little group of Enfield letters to Hood, Cowden Clarke, and Hone. Those to Hood are on the death of his infant daughter, and in relation to an expected visit from his wife and himself.

In the Gem for 1829 Hood printed the verses referred to, which in the original manuscript occupy two pages and a half of quarto paper, and were posted by Lamb to the bereaved father on the 30th of May, 1827. They are headed “ On an Infant Dying as soon as born,” and are directed to “ T. Hood Esqr. 2 Robert Street, Adelphi.”

It is very striking that Lamb, in his letter of condolence, cannot withstand the temptation not merely of making a pun, but of confessing that he had laid a sixpenny wager with Moxon as to the sex of the poor little creature.

IX. TO THOMAS HOOD.

[May, 1827.]

DEAREST HOOD, — Your news has spoil’d us a merry meeting. Miss Kelly and we were coming, but your letter elicited a flood of tears from Mary, and I saw she was not fit for a party. God bless you and the mother (as should be mother) of your sweet girl that should have been. I have won sexpence of Moxon by the sex of the dear gone one.

Yours most truly and hers,

C. L.

X. TO THE SAME.

[No date.]

DEAR HOOD, — We will look out for you on Wednesday, be sure, tho we have not eyes like Emma, who, when I made her sit with her back to the window to keep her to her Latin, literally saw round backwards every one that past, and, O, she were here to jump up and shriek out “ There are the Hoods ! ” We have had two pretty letters from her, which I long to show you — together with Enfield in her May beauty.

Loves to Jane.1

[Here follow rough caricatures of Charles and his sister, and “ I can’t draw no better.”]

XI. TO CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE.

DEAR C., — I shall do very well. The sunshine is medicinal, as you will find when you venture hither some fine day. Enfield is beautiful.

Yours truly, C. L.

Of a letter to Hone respecting the Every Day Book, which the author forwarded to Lamb in numbers, a portion has been given by the present writer ; but the entire text is now first printed. There is no difficulty in believing that the goodness of the Lambs to Hone, and the interest which they awakened in others on his behalf, were of vital service to that estimable and unfortunate man,

XII. TO WILLIAM HONE,

[August 12, 1825.]

DEAR HONE, — Your books are right acceptable. I did not enter further about Dogget, because on 2d thoughts the Book I mean does not refer to him. A coach from Bell or Bell and Crown sets of to Enfield at ½ past 4. Put yourself in it tomorrow afternoon, and come to us. We desire to shew you the country here. If we are out, when you come, the maid is instructed to keep you upon tea and proper bread and butter till we come home. Pray secure me the last No of Every day book, that which has S. R[ay] in it, which by mistake has never come. Did our newsman not bring it on Monday ? Don’t send home for it, for if I get it hereafter (so I have it at last) it is all I want. Mind, we shall expect you Saty night or Sundy morning. There are Edmonton coaches from Bishopsgte every half hour, the walk thence to Enfield easy across the fields, a mile and half.

Yours truly, C. LAMB.

This invitation is “ingenuous.” I assure you we want to see you here. Or will Sundy night and all day Monday suit you better ?

The coach sets you down at Mrs. Leishman’s.

Friday.

As far back as April 3, 1828, Lamb had addressed from Enfield a letter of appeal to the Rev. Edward Irving, of which Hone was apparently the bearer. It is in the edition of the Letters by Canon Ainger, and we need not therefore do more than refer to it. The speculation proved unsuccessful, and was relinquished.

A couple of years later, with the assistance of friends, of Lamb himself, doubtless, the Hone family had established a coffee-shop, The Grasshopper, in Gracechurch Street. In an inedited letter to Basil Montagu, May 10, 1830, poor Hone draws a dreadful picture of his financial and domestic condition. The friend referred to was, of course, Lamb, who had enlisted the sympathy and professional or official assistance of Montagu in the matter. Hone writes as follows to the Commissioner of Bankruptcy : —

“ It may be easily conceived that since the day you kindly proffered me your aid if it were requisite in the Bankrupt’s Court at Whitehall, I have not been ‘ tried with riches ’ — no one can imagine the distresses and heart sickenings I endured with my wife and eight children while we secretly struggled through a subsequent twelvemonth of concealed destitution. Literary employment was precarious ; a friend advised and assisted in the taking of these premises, which he judiciously conceived might be opened as a respectable coffee house, under the management of my eldest daughter.”

We now return to Miss Lamb, and have the pleasure of inviting attention to an interesting and rather long letter by her, directed to two friends who had been staying under their roof at Enfield, and whom the writer was apprehensive of having somehow offended. Mrs. Paris, from Cambridge, had been paying a visit to the Lambs, and they had not only Emma Isola, but her sister Harriet, with them. Emma was expecting a summons to return to Fornham ; Lamb was helping her to " rub up ” her Latin. It is an unpublished letter ; but we fail to understand to whom it was directed. There is no internal clue, nor does the correspondence of the period assist us.

XIII. MISS LAMB TO —.

[ENFIELD, end of April, 1830.]

My DEAR friends, — My brother and Emma are to send you a partnership letter, but as I have a great dislike to my stupid scrap at the fag end of a dull letter, and, as I am left alone, I will say my say first; and in the first place thank you for your kind letter ; it was a mighty comfort to me. Ever since you left me, I have been thinking I know not what, but every possible thing that I could invent, why you should be angry with me for something I had done or left undone during your uncomfortable sojourn with us, and now I read your letter and think and feel all is well again. Emma and her sister Harriet are gone to Theobalds Park, and Charles is gone to Barnet to cure his headache, which a good old lady has talked him into. She came on Thursday and left us yesterday evening. I mean she was Mrs. Paris, with whom Emma’s aunt lived at Cambridge, and she had so much to [tell] her about Cambridge friends, and to [tell] us about London ditto, that her tongue was never at rest through the whole day, and at night she took Hood’s Whims and Oddities to bed with her and laught all night. Bless her spirits ! I wish I had them and she were as mopey as I am. Emma came on Monday, and the week has passed away I know not how. But we have promised all the week that we should go and see the Picture friday or Saturday, and stay a night or so with you. Friday came and we could not turn Mrs. Paris out so soon, and on friday evening the thing was wholly given up. Saturday morning brought fresh hopes ; Mrs. Paris agreed to go to see the picture with us, and we were to walk to Edmonton. My Hat and my new gown were put on in great haste, and his honor, who decides all things here, would have it that we could not get to Edmonton in time ; and there was an end of all things. Expecting to see you, I did not write.

Monday evening.

Charles and Emma are taking a second walk. Harriet is gone home. Charles wishes to know more about the Widow. Is it to be made to match a drawing ? If you could throw a little more light on the subject, I think he would do it, when Emma is gone ; but his time will be quite taken up with her; for, besides refreshing her Latin, he gives her longlessons in arithmetic, which she is sadly deficient in. She leaves in a week, unless she receives a renewal of her holydays, which Mrs. Williams has half promised to send her. I do verily believe that I may hope to pass the last one, or two, or three nights with you, as she is to go from London to Bury. We will write to you the instant we receive Mrs. W.’s letter. As to my poor sonnet, and it is a very poor sonnet, only answered very well the purpose it was written for, Emma left it behind her, and nobody remembers more than one line of it, which is, I think, sufficient to convince you it would make no great impression in an Annual. So pray let it rest in peace, and I will make Charles write a better one instead.

This shall go to the Post to-night. If any [one] chooses to add anything to it they may. It will glad my heart to see you again.

Yours (both yours) truly and affectionately, M. LAMB.

Becky is going by the Post office, so I will send it away. I mean to commence letter-writer to the family.

Moxon having established a new venture, under the title of The Englishman’s Magazine, in 1831, it almost necessarily became part of Lamb’s duty to lend it a helping hand, which he did in certain papers headed “ Peter’s Net.” This explains the signature.

XIV. TO EDWARD MOXON.

[1831.]

DEAR M., — I have ingeniously contrived to review myself.

Tell me if this will do. Mind, for such things as these — half quotations — I do not charge " Elia” price. Let me hear of, if not see you.

PETER.

[Endorsed] Mr. Moxon, Publisher,

64 New Bond Street, London.

The last letter to Miss Matilda Betham, within our present knowledge, is of August 23, 1833. It has never, hitherto, appeared in its integrity or in its true order. It is one of the Edmonton series, and was posterior to Emma Isola’s marriage.

XV. TO MISS MATILDA BETHAM.

DEAR MISS B., —Your Bridal verses are very beautiful. Emma shall have them, as here corrected, when they return. They are in France. The verses, I repeat, are sweetly pretty. I know nobody in these parts that wants a servant ; indeed, I have no acquaintance in this new place, and rarely come to town. The rule of Christ’s Hospital is rigorous, that the marriage certificate of the parents be produced, previous to the presentation of a boy, so that your renowned Protegè has no chance. Never trouble yourself about Dyer’s neighbour. He will only tell you a parcel of fibs, and is impracticable to any advice. He has been long married and parted, and has to pay his wife a weekly allowance to this day, besides other incumbrances.

In haste and headake,

Yours, [Signature lost.] Augt 23, 1833.

Our next and final contribution comprises a remarkable group and sequence of letters sent by Lamb to Mrs. Williams, wife of the Rev. Mr. Williams, rector of Fornham, near Bury St. Edmunds. In the printed collections which have been so far given to the public, the correspondence with Mrs. Williams is limited to two letters, of which one has never yet been presented in its integrity. We are enabled by the kindness of that lady’s representative, Mr. Cecil Turner, to increase the series to seven, and at the same time to supply the omitted passages in that of April 2, 1830.

But there were unquestionably other communications, now irretrievably lost, both before and after the dates of those which are preserved. We must rest and be thankful. The enrichment of the existing store is equally fortuitous and acceptable.

So far back as 1822, Crabb Robinson, who was himself an East Anglian, and who had relatives whom he frequently visited at Bury, gave the Lambs an introduction to Miss Williams, — probably related to the rector of Fornham, perhaps his sister, — just prior to their departure on their French trip; and Mrs. Williams herself was certainly once at Colebrooke Cottage, Islington, where Allsop met her and Mrs. Shelley. But we hear nothing farther of any intercourse between the families, till we find Emma Isola established as a governess to the rector’s daughters in 1830. A good deal of information about this young lady, whom the Lambs adopted, occurs in the biographies and letters; and it is well known that she was the daughter of Carlo Isola, an Italian professor at Cambridge ; but we do not recollect to have seen it anywhere mentioned that she was, no doubt, the granddaughter of Agostino Isola, who brought out at Cambridge, in 1786, an edition of Tasso, and whom his son may have succeeded in his educational functions at the University.

Was it in Agostino Isola’s edition that the Lambs read the poet, — for Miss Lamb, at least, had made an attempt to learn Italian, — or in Fairfax’s English version, an old acquaintance ? For Lamb notes the purchase of a copy in a letter of 1797 to Coleridge, and calls upon him to rejoice with him at the piece of good fortune.

Emma Isola had gone down to Fornham to discharge her duties as governess in the house of Mrs. Williams, and was taken ill. On the 21st February, 1830, Lamb writes from Enfield to Moxon : —

“ A letter has just come from Mrs. Wms. to say that Emma is so poorly that she must have long holydays here. It has agitated me so much, and we shall expect her so hourly, that you shall excuse me to Wordsth for not coming up, we are both nervous and poorly.”

Of course this letter from Fornham has shared the doom of all but a fraction of Lamb’s papers of the kind ; but on the 26th he wrote to Mrs. Williams the first of a series of letters, of which only two have yet seen the light, and those imperfectly and inaccurately presented : —

XVI. TO MRS. WILLIAMS.

[February 26, 1830.]

DEAR MADAM, — May God bless you for your attention to our poor Emma ! I am so shaken with your sad news I can scarce write. She is too ill to be removed at present; but we can only say that if she is spared, when that can be practicable, we have always a home for her. Speak to her of it, when she is capable of understanding, and let me conjure you to let us know from day to day, the state she is in. But one line is all we crave. Nothing we can do for her, that shall not be done. We shall be in the terriblest suspense. We had no notion she was going to be ill. A line from anybody in your house will much oblige us. I feel for the situation this trouble places you in.

Can I go to her aunt, or do anything ? I do not know what to offer. We are in great distress. Pray relieve us, if you can, by somehow letting us know. I will fetch her here, or anything. Your kindness can never be forgot. Pray excuse my abruptness. I hardly know what I write. And take our warmest thanks. Hoping to hear something, I remain. dear Madam,

Yours most, faithfully,

C. LAMB.

Our grateful respects to Mr. Williams.

This singular letter betrays the passionate concern felt by the brother and sister for the young lady of their adoption, and places us in full inferential possession of the gravity of the illness by which Miss Isola had been so unexpectedly overtaken. It was an attack of brain fever.

XVII. TO THE SAME.

ENFIELD, 1 March, 1830.

DEAR MADAM, — We cannot thank you enough. Your two words “ much better " were so considerate and good. The good news affected my sister to an agony of tears ; but they have relieved us from such a weight. We were ready to expect the worst, and were hardly able to bear the good hearing. You speak so kindly of her, too, and think she may be able to resume her duties. We were prepared, as far as our humble means would have enabled us, to have taken her from all duties. But, far better for the dear girl it is that she should have a prospect of being useful.

I am sure you will pardon my writing again ; for my heart is so full, that it was impossible to refrain. Many thanks for your offer to write again, should any change take place. I dare not yet be quite out of fear, the alteration has been so sudden. But I will hope you will have a respite from the trouble of writing again. I know no expression to convey a sense of your kindness. We were in such a state expecting the post. I had almost resolved to come as near you as Bury; but my sister’s health does not permit my absence on melancholy occasions. But, O, how happy will she be to part with me, when I shall hear the agreeable news that I may come and fetch her. She shall be as quiet as possible. No restorative means shall be wanting to restore her back to you well and comfortable.

She will make up for this sad interruption of her young friends’ studies. I am sure she will — she must — after you have spared her for a little time. Change of scene may do very much for her. I think this last proof of your kindness to her in her desolate state can hardly make her love and respect you more than she has ever done. O, how glad shall we be to return her fit for her occupation. Madam, I trouble you with my nonsense ; but you would forgive me, if you knew how light-hearted you have made two poor souls at Enfield, that were gasping for news of their poor friend. I will pray for you and Mr. Williams. Give our very best respects to him, and accept our thanks. We are happier than we hardly know how to bear. God bless you ! My very kindest congratulations to Miss Humphreys.¹⁶ Believe me, dear Madam,

Your ever obliged servant,

C. LAMB.

It must be admitted that this unpublished matter, as it proceeds, is of very peculiar interest. The whole mind of the writer is irresistibly concentrated on a single point. He has cast aside all thought for things indifferent and external, and all power and desire to indulge in any allusions of a playful, much less jocose character. The force of his mind was so thoroughly absorbed by this sorrow that, if early relief had not arrived by the convalescence of the invalid, the most serious effects might have followed.

XVIII. TO THE SAME.

ENFIELD, 5 Mar. 1830.

DEAR MADAM, — I feel greatly obliged by your letter of Tuesday, and should not have troubled you again so soon, but that you express a wish to hear that our anxiety was relieved by the assurances in it. You have indeed given us much comfort respecting our young friend, but considerable uneasiness respecting your own health and spirits, which must have suffered under such attention. Pray believe me that we shall wait in quiet hope for the time, when I shall receive the welcome summons to come and relieve you from a charge, which you have executed with such tenderness. We desire nothing so much as to exchange it with you. Nothing shall be wanting on my part to remove her with the best judgment I can without (I hope) any necessity for depriving you of the services of your valuable housekeeper. Until the day comes, we entreat that you will spare yourself the trouble of writing, which we should be ashamed to impose upon you in your present weak state. Not hearing from you, we shall be satisfied in believing that there has been no relapse. Therefore we beg that you will not add to your troubles by unnecessary, though most kind, correspondence. Till I have the pleasure of thanking you personally, I beg you to accept these written acknowledgments of all your kindness. With respects to Mr. Williams and sincere prayers for both your healths, I remain,

Your ever obliged servant,

C. LAMB.

My sister joins me in respects and thanks.

From this third letter we collect that Mrs. Williams had overtaxed her strength in nursing her patient. Miss Isola was steadily rallying; but these communications from Lamb, we must recollect, arrived at very short intervals. Upwards of a fortnight, however, intervened before another letter from Lamb apprises us that Mrs. Williams now gave him and Miss Lamb hope that they might soon expect to be able to remove Miss Isola to Enfield.

XIX. TO THE SAME.

March 22, 1830.

DEAR MADAM, — Once more I have to return you thanks for a very kind letter. It has gladdened us very much to hear that we may have hope to see our young friend so soon, and through your kind nursing so well recovered. I sincerely hope that your own health and spirits will not have been shaken : you have had a sore trial indeed, and greatly do we feel indebted to you for all which you have undergone. If I hear nothing from you in the mean time, I shall secure myself a place in the Cornwallis Coach for Monday. It will not be at all necessary that I shall be met at Bury, as I can well find my way to the Rectory, and I beg that you will not inconvenience yourselves by such attention. Accordingly as I find Miss Isola able to bear the journey, I intend to take the care of her by the same stage or by chaises perhaps, dividing the journey; but exactly as you shall judge fit. It is our misfortune that long journeys do not agree with my sister, who would else have taken this care upon herself perhaps more properly. It is quite out of the question to rob you of the services of any of your domestics. I cannot think of it. But if in your opinion a female attendant would be requisite on the journey, and if you or Mr. Williams would feel more comfortable by her being in charge of two, I will most gladly engage one of her nurses or any young person near you, that you can recommend; for my object is to remove her in the way that shall be most satisfactory to yourselves.

On the subject of the young people that you are interesting yourselves about, I will have the pleasure to talk to you, when I shall see you. I live almost out of the world and out of the sphere of being useful ; but no pains of mine shall be spared, if but a prospect opens of doing a service. Could I do all I wish, and I indeed have grown helpless to myself and others, it must not satisfy the arrears of obligation I owe to Mr. Williams and yourself for all your kindness.

I beg you will turn in your mind and consider in what most comfortable way Miss Isola can leave your house, and I will implicitly follow your suggestions. What you have done for her can never be effaced from our memories, and I would have you part with her in the way that would best satisfy yourselves.

I am afraid of impertinently extending my letter, else I feel I have not said half what I would say. So, dear madam, till I have the pleasure of seeing you both, of whose kindness I have heard so much before, I respectfully take my leave with our kindest love to your poor patient and most sincere regards for the health and happiness of Mr. Williams and yourself. May God bless you. CH. LAMB.

ENFIELD, Monday, 22 March.

The four letters which have gone before harp almost exclusively on one string; but they are of special value, since they exhibit the writer in the light nearest to that of a fond and anxious parent that he could ever expect to attain, and so far the present series, hitherto almost unknown, may be said to stand quite by itself.

The worst was over. Miss Isola was conveyed safely back to Enfield by her affectionate guardian, and the next letter reported her arrival and condition after the journey. It has been repeatedly printed, and may be found in Canon Ainger’s collection.

One more letter, about two weeks later, completes the series, so far as it is in our power to complete it.¹⁷ The epistle now to be given accompanied the “ Acrostic to a Young Lady, who desired me to write her epitaph.”

XX. TO THE SAME.

ENFIELD, Tuesday [April 21, 1830].

DEAR MADAM, — I have ventured upon some lines, which combine my old acrostic talent (which you first found out) with my new profession of epitaphmonger. As you did not please to say, when you would die, I have left a blank space for the date. May kind heaven be a long time in filling it up. At least you cannot say that these lines are not about you, though not much to the purpose. We were very sorry to hear that you have not been very well, and hope that a little excursion may revive you. Miss Isola is thankful for her added day ; but I verily think she longs to see her young friends once more, and will regret less than ever the end of her holydays. She cannot be going on more quietly than she is doing here, and you will perceive amendment.

I hope all her little commissions will all be brought home to your satisfaction. When she returns, we purpose seeing her to Epping on her journey. We have had our proportion of fine weather and some pleasant walks, and she is stronger, her appetite good, but less wolfish than at first, which we hold a good sign. I hope Mr. Wing will approve of its abatement. She desires her very kindest respects to Mr. Williams and yourself, and wishes to rejoin you. My sister and myself join in respect, and pray tell Mr. Donne with our compliments, that we shall be disappointed, if we do not see him.

This letter being very neatly written, I am very unwilling that Emma should club any of her disproportionate scrawl to deface it.

Your obliged servant

C. LAMB.

Mrs. Williams, W. B. Donne Esq., Matteshall, East Dereham, Norfolk.

The Mr. Donne mentioned by Lamb was the late William Bodham Donne, Deputy Licenser of Plays, and at one period Secretary to the London Library.

Miss Isola did return to Fornham, and was there on the 28th June, 1830, when Lamb, writing to Bernard Barton, says:—

“ You will see that I am worn to the poetical dregs, condescending to acrostics, which are nine fathom beneath album verses ; but they were written at the request of the lady, where our Emma is.”

But we are informed that she did not remain long, though the reason of her final relinquishment of the duties is not specified.

The following lines appear to have been composed for the album of another young lady friend, Sophy Holcroft, afterward Mrs. Jefferson : —

The turn of Lamb for the acrostic set in at a late period of life, and he flattered himself that he attained considerable proficiency in the art of composing such verses.

These nugæ one is almost ashamed of perpetuating. Lamb thought that album verses were rather undignified ; but he lived to find a lower depth, as he himself has put it in a letter to a friend.

We hope, and we positively believe, that some benefit may accrue to the interests of literature by the criticisms which we have presumed to offer, as well as by the information which it has been in our power to supply. It will be possible, by some coöperative process, to print in the future the Lamb letters not only in a more complete shape as regards the surviving total, but with far greater textual fidelity and literal precision than are to be found in any edition hitherto put forward.

William Carew Hazlitt.