Procter's poem for Emma Isola's alb.u.m, as we have seen, mentions Isola Bella, the island in Lago de Maggiore. Delos was the floating island which Neptune fixed in order that Latona might rest there and Apollo and Diana be born.

Oedipus, who solved the riddle of the Sphinx, was the murderer of his father. Basil Montagu was Procter's father-in-law. Procter's address was 10 Lincolns Inn, New Square.

At the end of the letter came a pa.s.sage which for family reasons cannot be printed.]

LETTER 476

CHARLES LAMB TO B.W. PROCTER

February 2, 1829.

Facundissime Poeta! quanquam istiusmodi epitheta oratoribus potius quam poetis attinere facile scio--tamen, facundissime!

Commoratur n.o.bisc.u.m jamdiu, in agro Enfeldiense, scilicet, leguleius futurus, ill.u.s.trissimus Martinus Burneius, otium agens, negotia nominalia, et officinam clientum vacuam, paululum fugiens. Orat, implorat te--nempe, Martinus--ut si (qud Dii faciant) forte fortuna, absente ipso, advenerit tardus cliens, eum certiorem feceris per literas huc missas. Intelligisne? an me Anglice et barbarice ad te hominem perdoctum scribere oportet?

Si status de franco tenemento datur avo, et in codem facto si mediate vel immediate datur _haeredibus vel haeredibus corporis dicti avi_, postrema, haec verba sunt Limitations, non Perquisitionis.

Dixi.

CARLAGNULUS.

[Mr. Stephen Gwynn has made the following translation for me:--

"Most eloquent Poet: though I know well such epithet befits orators rather than poets--and yet, Most eloquent!

"There has been staying with us this while past at our country seat of Enfield to wit, the future attorney, the ill.u.s.trious Martin Burney, taking his leisure, flying for a s.p.a.ce from his nominal occupations, and his office empty of clients. He--that is, Martin--begs and entreats of you that if (heaven send it so!) by some stroke of fortune, in his absence there should arrive a belated client, you would inform him by letter here. Do you understand? or must I write in barbarous English to a scholar like you?

"If an estate in freehold is given to an ancestor, and if in the same deed directly or indirectly the gift is made to the heir or heirs of the body of the said ancestor, these last words have the force of Limitation not of Purchase.

"I have spoken.

CHARLES LAMB."

The last pa.s.sage was copied probably direct from some law book of Burney's, and is unintelligible except to students of law-Latin.]

LETTER 477

CHARLES LAMB TO CHARLES COWDEN CLARKE

Edmonton, Feb. 2, 1829.

Dear Cowden,--Your books are as the gushing of streams in a desert. By the way, you have sent no autobiographies. Your letter seems to imply you had. Nor do I want any. Cowden, they are of the books which I give away. What d.a.m.n'd Unitarian skewer-soul'd things the general biographies turn out. Rank and Talent you shall have when Mrs. May has done with 'em. Mary likes Mrs. Bedinfield much. For me I read nothing but Astrea--it has turn'd my brain--I go about with a switch turn'd up at the end for a crook; and Lambs being too old, the butcher tells me, my cat follows me in a green ribband. Becky and her cousin are getting pastoral dresses, and then we shall all four go about Arcadizing. O cruel Shepherdess! Inconstant yet fair, and more inconstant for being fair! Her gold ringlets fell in a disorder superior to order!

Come and join us.

I am called the Black Shepherd--you shall be Cowden with the Tuft.

Prosaically, we shall be glad to have you both,--or any two of you--drop in by surprise some Sat.u.r.day night. This must go off.

Loves to Vittoria. C.L.

["Rank and Talent"-a novel by W.P. Scargill, 1829.

Mrs. Bedinfield wrote _Longhollow: a Country Tale_, 1829.

"Astrea." Probably the romance by Honore D'Urfe.

"Cowden with the Tuft." So called from his hair, and from _Riquet with the Tuft_, the fairy tale. We read in the Cowden Clarkes' _Recollections of Writers:_ "The latter name ('Cowden with the Tuft') slyly implies the smooth baldness with scant curly hair distinguishing the head of the friend addressed, and which seemed to strike Charles Lamb so forcibly, that one evening, after gazing at it for some time, he suddenly broke forth with the exclamation, ''Gad, Clarke! what whiskers you have behind your head!'"]

LETTER 478

CHARLES LAMB TO HENRY CRABB ROBINSON

[P.M. February 27, 1829.]

Dear R.--Expectation was alert on the receit of your strange-shaped present, while yet undisclosed from its fuse envelope. Some said,'tis a viol da Gamba, others p.r.o.nounced it a fiddle. I myself hoped it a Liquer case pregnant with Eau de Vie and such odd Nectar. When midwifed into daylight, the gossips were at loss to p.r.o.nounce upon its species. Most took it for a marrow spoon, an apple scoop, a banker's guinea shovel. At length its true scope appeared, its drift-- to save the backbone of my sister stooping to scuttles. A philanthropic intent, borrowed no doubt from some of the Colliers. You save people's backs one way, and break 'em again by loads of obligation. The spectacles are delicate and Vulcanian. No lighter texture than their steel did the cuckoldy blacksmith frame to catch Mrs. Vulcan and the Captain in. For ungalled forehead, as for back unbursten, you have Mary's thanks. Marry, for my own peculium of obligation, 'twas supererogatory. A second part of Pamela was enough in conscience. Two Pamelas in a house is too much without two Mr. B.'s to reward 'em.

Mary, who is handselling her new aerial perspectives upon a pair of old worsted stockings trod out in Cheshunt lanes, sends love. I, great good liking. Bid us a personal farewell before you see the Vatican.

Chas. Lamb, Enfield.

[Crabb Robinson, just starting for Rome, had sent Lamb a copy of _Pamela_ under the impression that he had borrowed one.

"Two Mr. B.'s." In Richardson's novel Pamela marries the young Squire B.

and reforms him.]

LETTER 479

CHARLES LAMB TO SAMUEL ROGERS

Chase, Enfield: 22nd Mar., 1829.

My dear Sir,--I have but lately learned, by letter from Mr. Moxon, the death of your brother. For the little I had seen of him, I greatly respected him. I do not even know how recent your loss may have been, and hope that I do not unseasonably present you with a few lines suggested to me this morning by the thought of him. I beg to be most kindly remembered to your remaining brother, and to Miss Rogers.

Your's truly, CHARLES LAMB.

Rogers, of all the men that I have known But slightly, who have died, your brother's loss Touched me most sensibly. There came across My mind an image of the cordial tone Of your fraternal meetings, where a guest I more than once have sate; and grieve to think, That of that threefold cord one precious link By Death's rude hand is sever'd from the rest.