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　　LETTER 372

　　CHARLES LAMB TO WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

　　[No date. May, 1825.]

　　Dear W. I write post-hoste to ensure a frank. Thanks for your hearty congratulations. I may now date from the 6th week of my Hegira or Flight from Leadenhall. I have lived so much in it, that a Summer seems already past, and 'tis but early May yet with you and other people. How I look down on the Slaves and drudges of the world! its inhabitants are a vast cotton-web of spin spin spinners. O the carking cares! O the money-grubbers-sempiternal muckworms!

　　Your Virgil I have lost sight of, but suspect it is in the hands of Sir G. Beaumont. I think that circumstances made me shy of procuring it before. Will you write to him about it? and your commands shall be obeyed to a tittle.

　　Coleridge has just finishd his prize Essay, which if it get the Prize he'll touch an additional £100 I fancy. His Book too (commentary on Bishop Leighton) is quite finished and penes Taylor and Hessey.

　　In the London which is just out (1st May) are 2 papers entitled the Superannuated Man, which I wish you to see, and also 1st Apr. a little thing called Barbara S——— a story gleaned from Miss Kelly. The L.M. if you can get it will save my enlargement upon the topic of my manumission.

　　I must scribble to make up my hiatus crumenae, for there are so many ways, pious and profligate, of getting rid of money in this vast city and suburbs that I shall miss my third: but couragio. I despair not. Your kind hint of the Cottage was well thrown out. An anchorage for age and school of economy when necessity comes. But without this latter I have an unconquerable terror of changing Place. It does not agree with us. I say it from conviction. Else—I do sometimes ruralize in fancy.

　　Some d———d people are come in and I must finish abruptly. By d———d, I only mean deuced. 'Tis these suitors of Penelope that make it necessary to authorise a little for gin and mutton and such trifles.

　　Excuse my abortive scribble.

　　Yours not in more haste than heart C.L.

　　Love and recollects to all the Wms. Doras, Maries round your Wrekin.

　　Mary is capitally well.

　　Do write to Sir G.B. for I am shyish of applying to him.

　　[Coleridge had been appointed to one of the ten Royal Associateships of the newly chartered Royal Society of Literature, thus becoming entitled to an annuity of 100 guineas. An essay was expected from each associate. Coleridge wrote on the Prometheus of Aeschylus, and read it on May 18. His book was Aids to Reflection. See note on page 734.

　　"I shall miss my thirds." Lamb's pension was two-thirds of his stipend.

　　"Some d——-d people." A hint for Lamb's Popular Fallacy on Home, soon to be written.

　　"Round your Wrekin." Lamb repeats this phrase twice in the next few months. He got it from the Dedication to Farquhar's play "The Recruiting Officer"—"To all friends round the Wrekin."

　　Here perhaps should come a letter to Mrs. Norris printed in the Boston Bibliophile edition containing some very interesting comic verses on England somewhat in the manner of Don Juan—

　　I like the weather when it's not too rainy,

　　That is, I like two months of every year,

　　and so on.] The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 6