LETTER 7

CHARLES LAMB TO S.T. COLERIDGE

the 6th July [P.M. July 7, 1796].

Subst.i.tute in room of that last confused & incorrect Paragraph, following the words "disastrous course," these lines

[Sidenote: Vide 3d page of this epistle.]

{ With better hopes, I trust, from Avon's vales { This other "minstrel" cometh Youth endear'd no { G.o.d & good Angels guide thee on thy road, { And gentler fortunes wait the friends I love.

[_Lamb has crossed through the above lines_.]

Let us prose.

What can I do till you send word what priced and placed house you should like? Islington (possibly) you would not like, to me 'tis cla.s.sical ground. Knightsbridge is a desirable situation for the air of the parks.

St. George's Fields is convenient for its contiguity to the Bench.

Chuse! But are you really coming to town? The hope of it has entirely disarmed my petty disappointment of its nettles. Yet I rejoice so much on my own account, that I fear I do not feel enough pure satisfaction on yours. Why, surely, the joint editorship of the Chron: must be a very comfortable & secure living for a man. But should not you read French, or do you? & can you write with sufficient moderation, as 'tis called, when one suppresses the one half of what one feels, or could say, on a subject, to chime in the better with popular luke-warmness?--White's "Letters" are near publication. Could you review 'em, or get 'em reviewed? Are you not connected with the Crit: Rev:? His frontispiece is a good conceit: Sir John learning to dance, to please Madame Page, in dress of doublet, etc., from [for] the upper half; & modern pantaloons, with shoes, etc., of the 18th century, from [for] the lower half--& the whole work is full of goodly quips & rare fancies, "all deftly masqued like h.o.a.r antiquity"--much superior to Dr. Kenrick's Falstaff's Wedding, which you may have seen. Allen sometimes laughs at Superst.i.tion, & Religion, & the like. A living fell vacant lately in the gift of the Hospital. White informed him that he stood a fair chance for it. He scrupled & scrupled about it, and at last (to use his own words) "tampered" with _G.o.dwin_ to know whether the thing was honest or not.

_G.o.dwin_ said nay to it, & Allen rejected the living! Could the blindest Poor Papish have bowed more servilely to his Priest or Casuist? Why sleep the Watchman's answers to that _G.o.dwin_? I beg you will not delay to alter, if you mean to keep, those last lines I sent you. Do that, & read these for your pains:--

TO THE POET COWPER

Cowper, I thank my G.o.d that thou art heal'd!

Thine was the sorest malady of all; And I am sad to think that it should light Upon the worthy head! But thou art heal'd, And thou art yet, we trust, the destin'd man, Born to reanimate the Lyre, whose chords Have slumber'd, and have idle lain so long, To the immortal sounding of whose strings Did Milton frame the stately-paced verse; Among whose wires with lighter finger playing, Our elder bard, Spenser, a gentle name, The Lady Muses' dearest darling child, Elicited the deftest tunes yet heard In Hall or Bower, taking the delicate Ear Of Sydney, & his peerless Maiden Queen.

Thou, then, take up the mighty Epic strain, Cowper, of England's Bards, the wisest & the best.

1796.

I have read your climax of praises in those 3 reviews. These mighty spouters-out of panegyric waters have, 2 of 'em, scattered their spray even upon me! & the waters are cooling & refreshing. Prosaically, the Monthly Reviewers have made indeed a large article of it, & done you justice. The Critical have, in their wisdom, selected not the very best specimens, & notice not, except as one name on the muster-roll, the "Religious Musings." I suspect Master Dyer to have been the writer of that article, as the substance of it was the very remarks & the very language he used to me one day. I fear you will not accord entirely with my sentiments of Cowper, as _exprest_ above, (perhaps scarcely just), but the poor Gentleman has just recovered from his Lunacies, & that begets pity, & pity love, and love admiration, & then it goes hard with People but they lie! Have you read the Ballad called "Leonora," in the second Number of the "Monthly Magazine"? If you have !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There is another fine song, from the same author (Berger), in the 3d No., of scarce inferior merit; & (vastly below these) there are some happy specimens of English hexameters, in an imitation of Ossian, in the 5th No. For your Dactyls I am sorry you are so sore about 'em--a very Sir Fretful! In good troth, the Dactyls are good Dactyls, but their measure is naught. Be not yourself "half anger, half agony" if I p.r.o.nounce your darling lines not to be the best you ever wrote--you have written much.

For the alterations in those lines, let 'em run thus:

I may not come a pilgrim, to the Banks of _Avon, lucid stream_, to taste the wave (inspiring wave) was too which Shakspere drank, our British Helicon; common place.

or with mine eye, &c., &c.

_To muse, in tears_, on that mysterious Youth, &c. (better than "drop a tear")

Then the last paragraph alter thus

better refer to my own Complaint begone, begone unkind reproof, "complaint" solely than Take up, my song, take up a merrier strain, half to that and half to For yet again, & lo! from Avon's vales, Chatterton, as in your Another mistrel cometh! youth _endeared_, copy, which creates a G.o.d & good angels &c., as before confusion--"ominous fears" &c.

Have a care, good Master poet, of the Statute de Contumelia. What do you mean by calling Madame Mara harlot & naughty things? The goodness of the verse would not save you in a court of Justice. But are you really coming to town?

Coleridge, a gentleman called in London lately from Bristol, inquired whether there were any of the family of a Mr. Chambers living--this Mr.

Chambers he said had been the making of a friend's fortune who wished to make some return for it. He went away without seeing her. Now, a Mrs.

Reynolds, a very intimate friend of ours, whom you have seen at our house, is the only daughter, & all that survives, of Mr. Chambers--& a very little supply would be of service to her, for she married very unfortunately, & has parted with her husband. Pray find out this Mr.

Pember (for that was the gentleman's friend's name), he is an attorney, & lives at Bristol. Find him out, & acquaint him with the circ.u.mstances of the case, & offer to be the medium of supply to Mrs. Reynolds, if he chuses to make her a present. She is in very distrest circ.u.mstances. Mr.

Pember, attorney, Bristol--Mr. Chambers lived in the Temple. Mrs.

Reynolds, his daughter, was my schoolmistress, & is in the room at this present writing. This last circ.u.mstance induced me to write so soon again--I have not further to add--Our loves to Sara.

Thursday.

C. LAMB.

[The pa.s.sage at the beginning, before "Let us prose," together with the later pa.s.sages in the same manner, refers to the poem in the preceding letter, which in slightly different form is printed in editions of Lamb as "Lines to Sara and Her Samuel." To complete the sense of the letter one should compare the text of the poem in Vol. IV.

Coleridge had just received a suggestion, through Dr. Beddoes of Bristol, that he should replace Grey, the late co-editor (with James Perry) of the _Morning Chronicle_. It came to nothing; but Coleridge had told Lamb and had asked him to look out a house in town for him.

Dr. Kenrick's "Falstaff's Wedding," 1760, was a continuation of Shakespeare's "Henry IV."

We do not know what were the last lines that Lamb had sent to Coleridge.

The lines to Cowper were printed in the _Monthly Magazine_ for December, 1796.

Coleridge's _Poems_ were reviewed in the Monthly Review, June, 1796, with no mention of Lamb. The _Critical Review_ for the same month said of Lamb's effusions: "These are very beautiful."

Burger's "Leonora," which was to have such an influence upon English literature (it was the foundation of much of Sir Walter Scott's poetry), was translated from the German by William Taylor of Norwich in 1790 and printed in the _Monthly Magazine_ in March, 1796. Scott at once made a rival version. The other fine song, in the April _Monthly Magazine_, was "The La.s.s of Fair Wone."

The mention of the Statute de Contumelia seems to refer to the "Lines Composed in a Concert-Room," which were first printed in the _Morning Post_, September 24, 1799, but must have been written earlier. Madame Mara (1749-1833) is not mentioned by name in the poem, but being one of the princ.i.p.al singers of the day Lamb probably fastened the epithet upon her by way of pleasantry; or she may have been referred to in the version of the lines which Lamb had seen.

The pa.s.sage about Mr. Chambers is not now explicable; but we know that Mrs. Reynolds was Lamb's schoolmistress, probably when he was very small, and before he went to William Bird's Academy, and that in later life he allowed her a pension of 30 a year until her death.

Between this and the next letter came, in all probability, a number of letters to Coleridge which have been lost. It is incredible that Lamb kept silence, at this period, for eleven weeks.]

LETTER 8

CHARLES LAMB TO S.T. COLERIDGE

[P.M. September 27, 1796.]

My dearest friend--White or some of my friends or the public papers by this time may have informed you of the terrible calamities that have fallen on our family. I will only give you the outlines. My poor dear dearest sister in a fit of insanity has been the death of her own mother. I was at hand only time enough to s.n.a.t.c.h the knife out of her grasp. She is at present in a mad house, from whence I fear she must be moved to an hospital. G.o.d has preserved to me my senses,--I eat and drink and sleep, and have my judgment I believe very sound. My poor father was slightly wounded, and I am left to take care of him and my aunt. Mr. Norris of the Bluecoat school has been very very kind to us, and we have no other friend, but thank G.o.d I am very calm and composed, and able to do the best that remains to do. Write,--as religious a letter as possible--but no mention of what is gone and done with.--With me "the former things are pa.s.sed away," and I have something more to do that [than] to feel--

G.o.d almighty have us all in his keeping.--

C. LAMB.

Mention nothing of poetry. I have destroyed every vestige of past vanities of that kind. Do as you please, but if you publish, publish mine (I give free leave) without name or initial, and never send me a book, I charge you.

You [your] own judgment will convince you not to take any notice of this yet to your dear wife.--You look after your family,--I have my reason and strength left to take care of mine. I charge you, don't think of coming to see me. Write. I will not see you if you come. G.o.d almighty love you and all of us--

[The following is the report of the inquest upon Mrs. Lamb which appeared in the _Morning Chronicle_ for September 26, 1796. The tragedy had occurred on Thursday, September 22:--

On Friday afternoon the Coroner and a respectable Jury sat on the body of a Lady in the neighbourhood of Holborn, who died in consequence of a wound from her daughter the preceding day. It appeared by the evidence adduced, that while the family were preparing for dinner, the young lady seized a case knife laying on the table, and in a menacing manner pursued a little girl, her apprentice, round the room; on the eager calls of her helpless infirm mother to forbear, she renounced her first object, and with loud shrieks approached her parent.