The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb
Chapter 307 : LETTER 49 CHARLES LAMB TO S.T. COLERIDGE ? Jan. 23, 1800.Dear Coleridge,--Now I write,

LETTER 49

CHARLES LAMB TO S.T. COLERIDGE ? Jan. 23, 1800.

Dear Coleridge,--Now I write, I cannot miss this opportunity of acknowledging the obligations myself, and the readers in general of that luminous paper, the "Morning Post," are under to you for the very novel and exquisite manner in which you combined political with grammatical science, in your yesterday's dissertation on Mr. Wyndham's unhappy composition. It must have been the death-blow to that ministry. I expect Pitt and Grenville to resign. More especially the delicate and Cottrellian grace with which you officiated, with a ferula for a white wand, as gentleman usher to the word "also," which it seems did not know its place.

I expect Manning of Cambridge in town to-night--will you fulfil your promise of meeting him at my house? He is a man of a thousand. Give me a line to say what day, whether Sat.u.r.day, Sunday, Monday, &c., and if Sara and the Philosopher can come. I am afraid if I did not at intervals call upon you, I should _never see you_. But I forget, the affairs of the nation engross your time and your mind.

Farewell. C.L.

[The first letter that has been preserved of the second period of Lamb's correspondence with Coleridge, which was to last until the end.

In the _Morning Post_ of January 7, 1800, had appeared the correspondence between Buonaparte and Lord Grenville, in which Buonaparte made an offer of peace. Lord Grenville's Note, it was pointed out in the _Morning Post_ for January 16, was really written by William Windham, Secretary for War, and on January 22 appeared an article closely criticising its grammar.

Here is the pa.s.sage concerning "also," to which Lamb particularly alludes a little later in the letter:--

... "The _same_ system, to the prevalence of which France justly ascribes all her present miseries, is that which has _also_ involved the rest of Europe in a long and destructive warfare, of a nature long since unknown _to_ the practice of civilized nations." Here the connective word "also" should have followed the word "Europe." As it at present stands, the sentence implies that France, miserable as she may be, has, however, not been involved in a warfare. The word "same" is absolutely expletive; and by appearing to refer the reader to some foregoing clause, it not only loads the sentence, but renders it obscure. The word "to" is absurdly used for the word "in." A thing may be unknown _to_ pract.i.tioners, as humanity and sincerity may be unknown to the pract.i.tioners of State-craft, and foresight, science, and harmony may have been unknown to the planners and pract.i.tioners of Continental Expeditions; but even "cheese-parings and candle-ends" cannot be known or unknown "_to_" a practice!!

Windham was destined to be attacked by another stalwart in Lamb's circle, for it was his speech in opposition to Lord Erskine's Cruelty to Animals Bill in 1809 that inspired John Lamb to write his fierce pamphlet (see page 434).

"Cottrellian grace." The Cotterells were Masters of the Ceremonies from 1641 to 1808.

The Philosopher was Hartley Coleridge, aged three, so called after his great namesake, David Hartley. The Coleridges were now, as we have seen, living at 21 Buckingham Street, Strand.]

LETTER 50

Charles Lamb to Thomas Manning

[P.M. Feb. 13, 1800.]

Dear Manning,--Olivia is a good girl, and if you turn to my letter, you will find that this very plea you set up to vindicate Lloyd I had made use of as a reason why he should never have employed Olivia to make a copy of such a letter--a letter I could not have sent to my enemy's b----h, if she had thought fit to seek me in the way of marriage. But you see it in one view, I in another. Rest you merry in your opinion!

Opinion is a species of property; and though I am always desirous to share with my friend to a certain extent, I shall ever like to keep some tenets and some property properly my own. Some day, Manning, when we meet, subst.i.tuting Corydon and fair Amaryllis, for Charles Lloyd and Mary Hayes, we will discuss together this question of moral feeling, "In what cases and how far sincerity is a virtue?" I do not mean Truth--a good Olivia-like creature--G.o.d bless her, who, meaning no offence, is always ready to give an answer when she is asked why she did so and so; but a certain forward-talking half-brother of hers, Sincerity, that amphibious gentleman, who is so ready to perk up his obnoxious sentiments unasked into your notice, as Midas would his ears into your face uncalled for. But I despair of doing anything by a letter in the way of explaining or coming to explanations. A good wish, or a pun, or a piece of secret history, may be well enough that way conveyed; nay, it has been known that intelligence of a turkey hath been conveyed by that medium without much ambiguity. G.o.dwin I am a good deal pleased with. He is a very well-behaved, decent man, nothing very brilliant about him, or imposing, as you may suppose; quite another guess sort of gentleman from what your Anti-Jacobin Christians imagine him. I was well pleased to find he has neither horns nor claws; quite a tame creature, I a.s.sure you. A middle-sized man, both in stature and in understanding; whereas, from his noisy fame, you would expect to find a Briareus Centima.n.u.s, or a t.i.tyus tall enough to pull Jupiter from his heavens.

I begin to think you Atheists not quite so tall a species. Coleridge inquires after you pretty often. I wish to be the Pandar to bring you together again once before I die. When we die, you and I must part; the sheep, you know, take the right hand, and the goats the left. Stripped of its allegory, you must know, the sheep are _I_ and the Apostles, and the Martyrs, and the Popes, and Bishop Taylor, and Bishop Horsley, and Coleridge, &c., &c.; the goats are the Atheists and the Adulterers, and dumb dogs, and G.o.dwin and M-----g, and that Thyestaean crew--yaw! how my saints.h.i.+p sickens at the idea!

You shall have my play and the Falstaff letters in a day or two. I will write to Lloyd by this day's post.

Pray, is it a part of your sincerity to show my letters to Lloyd? for really, gentlemen ought to explain their virtues upon a first acquaintance, to prevent mistakes.

G.o.d bless you, Manning. Take my trifling _as trifling_; and believe me, seriously and deeply,

Your well-wisher and friend,

C. L.

[Mary Hayes was a friend of Mary Wollstonecraft, and also of Southey and Coleridge. She wrote a novel, _Memoirs of Emma Courtney_, which Lloyd says contained her own love letters to G.o.dwin and Frend, and also _Female Biography, or Memoirs of Ill.u.s.trious and Celebrated Women_.

Lloyd and she had been very intimate. A pa.s.sage from a letter of Coleridge to Southey, dated January 25, 1800, bears upon the present situation: "Miss Hayes I have seen. Charles Lloyd's conduct has been atrocious beyond what you stated. Lamb himself confessed to me that during the time in which he kept up his ranting, sentimental correspondence with Miss Hayes, he frequently read her letters in company, as a subject for _laughter_, and then sate down and answered them quite _a la Rousseau_! Poor Lloyd! Every hour new-creates him; he is his own posterity in a perpetually flowing series, and his body unfortunately retaining an external ident.i.ty, _their_ mutual contradictions and disagreeings are united under one name, and of course are called lies, treachery, and rascality!"

Another letter from Lamb to Manning at this time tells the story of the Charles Lloyd and Mary Hayes imbroglio. Lloyd had written to Miss Hayes a very odd letter concerning her G.o.dwinite creed, in which he refers to her belief that she was in love with him and repeats old stories that she had been in love both with G.o.dwin and Frend. Here is one sentence: "In the confounding medley of ordinary conversation, I have interwoven my abhorrence of your principles with a glanced contempt for your personal character." This letter Lloyd had given to his sister Olivia to copy--"An ignorant Quaker girl," says Lamb, "I mean ignorant in the best sense, who ought not to know, that such a thing was possible or in rerum naturae that a woman should court a man." Later: "As long as Lloyd or I have known Col. [Coleridge] so long have we known him in the daily and hourly habit of quizzing the world by lyes, most unaccountable and most disinterested fictions." And here is one more pa.s.sage: "To sum up my inferences from the above facts, I am determined to live a merry Life in the midst of Sinners. I try to consider all men as such, and to pitch any expectations from human nature as low as possible. In this view, all unexpected Virtues are G.o.dsends and beautiful exceptions."

Lamb had just met William G.o.dwin (1756-1836), probably having been introduced to him by Coleridge. G.o.dwin, known chiefly by his _Political Justice_, 1793; _Caleb Williams_, 1794, and _St. Leon_, 1799, stood at that time for everything that was advanced in thought and conduct. We shall meet with him often in the correspondence of the next few years.

Bishop Horsley (then of Rochester, afterwards St. Asaph's) was probably included ironically, on account of his hostility to Priestley.]

LETTER 51

CHARLES LAMB TO THOMAS MANNING

[P.M. March 1, 1800.]

I hope by this time you are prepared to say the "Falstaf's letters" are a bundle of the sharpest, queerest, profoundest humours, of any these juice-drained latter times have sp.a.w.ned. I should have advertised you, that the meaning is frequently hard to be got at; and so are the future guineas, that now lie ripening and aurifying in the womb of some undiscovered Potosi; but dig, dig, dig, dig, Manning! I set to with an unconquerable propulsion to write, with a lamentable want of what to write. My private goings on are orderly as the movements of the spheres, and stale as their music to angels' ears. Public affairs--except as they touch upon me, and so turn into private, I cannot whip up my mind to feel any interest in. I grieve, indeed, that War and Nature, and Mr.

Pitt, that hangs up in Lloyd's best parlour, should have conspired to call up three necessaries, simple commoners as our fathers knew them, into the upper house of Luxuries; Bread, and Beer, and Coals, Manning.

But as to France and Frenchmen, and the Abbe Sieyes and his const.i.tutions, I cannot make these present times present to me. I read histories of the past, and I live in them; although, to abstract senses, they are far less momentous than the noises which keep Europe awake. I am reading Burnet's Own Times. Did you ever read that garrulous, pleasant history? He tells his story like an old man past political service, bragging to his sons on winter evenings of the part he took in public transactions, when his "old cap was new." Full of scandal, which all true history is. No palliatives, but all the stark wickedness, that actually gives the _momentum_ to national actors. Quite the prattle of age and out-lived importance. Truth and sincerity staring out upon you perpetually in _alto relievo_. Himself a party man--he makes you a party man. None of the d.a.m.ned philosophical Humeian indifference, so cold, and unnatural, and inhuman! None of the d.a.m.ned Gibbonian fine writing, so fine and composite. None of Mr. Robertson's periods with three members.

None of Mr. Roscoe's sage remarks, all so apposite, and coming in so clever, lest the reader should have had the trouble of drawing an inference. Burnet's good old prattle I can bring present to my mind--I can make the revolution present to me; the French Revolution, by a converse perversity in my nature, I fling as far _from_ me. To quit this d.a.m.n'd subject, and to relieve you from two or three dismal yawns, which I hear in spirit, I here conclude my more than commonly obtuse letter; dull up to the dulness of a Dutch commentator on Shakspeare.

My love to Lloyd and Sophia. C. L.

["War and Nature, and Mr. Pitt." The war had sent up taxation to an almost unbearable height. Pitt was Chancellor of Exchequer, as well as Prime Minister.

Hume, Gibbon and Robertson were among the books which, in the Elia essay "Detached Thoughts on Books and Reading," Lamb described as _biblia-a-biblia_. William Roscoe's princ.i.p.al work was his _Life of Lorenzo de' Medici_, 1795.]

LETTER 52

CHARLES LAMB TO THOMAS MANNING

[P.M. March 17, 1800.]

Dear Manning,--I am living in a continuous feast. Coleridge has been with me now for nigh three weeks, and the more I see of him in the quotidian undress and relaxation of his mind, the more cause I see to love him, and believe him a _very good man_, and all those foolish impressions to the contrary fly off like morning slumbers. He is engaged in translations, which I hope will keep him this month to come. He is uncommonly kind and friendly to me. He ferrets me day and night to _do something_. He tends me, amidst all his own worrying and heart-oppressing occupations, as a gardener tends his young _tulip_.

Marry come up! what a pretty similitude, and how like your humble servant! He has lugged me to the brink of engaging to a newspaper, and has suggested to me for a first plan the forgery of a supposed ma.n.u.script of Burton the anatomist of melancholy. I have even written the introductory letter; and, if I can pick up a few guineas this way, I feel they will be most _refres.h.i.+ng_, bread being so dear. If I go on with it, I will apprise you of it, as you may like to see my thing's!

and the _tulip_, of all flowers, loves to be admired most.

Pray pardon me, if my letters do not come very thick. I am so taken up with one thing or other, that I cannot pick out (I will not say time, but) fitting times to write to you. My dear love to Lloyd and Sophia, and pray split this thin letter into three parts, and present them with the _two biggest_ in my name.

They are my oldest friends; but ever the new friend driveth out the old, as the ballad sings! G.o.d bless you all three! I would hear from Lloyd, if I could.