as long as my poor months last me, as a festival,

gloriously.

Yours, ever,

ELIA.

We have not heard from Cambridge. I will write the moment we do.

Edmonton, 24th July, twenty minutes past

three by Emma's watch.

Miss Lamb was in the sad state of mental estrangement up to the day of the wedding; but then in the constant companionship of her brother at Edmonton. The following cluster of little letters to the new married pair-the first from Charles, introducing one from Mary-shows the happy effect of the news on her mental health.

TO MR. AND MRS. MOXON.

DEAR MR. AND MRS. MOXON,

Time very short. I wrote to Miss Fryer, and had the sweetest letter about you, Emma, that ever friendship dictated. "I am full of good wishes, I am crying with good wishes," she says; but you shall see it.

98 LETTER TO EMMA AND EDWARD MOXON.

DEAR MOXON,

I take your writing most kindly, and shall most kindly your writing from Paris.

I want to crowd another letter to Miss Fryer into the little time after dinner, before post time. So with twenty thousand congratulations,

Yours,

C. L.

I am calm, sober, happy. Turn over for the reason. I got home from Dover Street, by Evans, half as sober as a judge. I am turning over a new leaf, as I hope you will now.

The turn of the leaf presented the following from Miss Lamb:—

MY DEAR EMMA AND EDWARD MOXON,

Accept my sincere congratulations, and imagine more good wishes than my weak nerves will let me put into good set words. The dreary blank of unanswered questions which I ventured to ask in vain, was cleared up on the wedding day by Mrs. W. taking a glass of wine, and, with a total

* The wife of the landlord of the house at Edmonton.

LETTER TO EMMA AND EDWARD MOXON.

99

change of countenance, begging leave to drink Mr. and Mrs. Moxon's good health. It restored me from that moment, as if by an electrical stroke, to the entire possession of my senses. I never felt so calm and quiet after a similar illness as I do now. I feel as if all tears were wiped from my eyes, and all care from my heart.

MARY LAMB.

At the foot of this letter is the following by Charles: :

Wednesday.

DEARS, AGAIN,

Your letter interrupted a seventh game at piquet which we were having, after walking to WRIGHT's and purchasing shoes. We pass our time in cards, walks, and reading. We attack Tasso soon.

C. L.

Never was such a calm, or such a recovery. 'Tis her own words, undictated.

Miss Lamb did not escape all the cares of house

keeping by the new arrangement; the following little note shows the grotesque uses to which Lamb turned the smaller household anxieties :

DEAR M.,

TO MR. MOXON.

Mary and I are very poorly. We have had a sick child, who, sleeping or not sleeping, next me, with a pasteboard partition between, killed my sleep. The little bastard is gone. My bedfellows are cough and cramp; we sleep three in a bed. Domestic arrangements (baker, butcher, and all) devolve on Mary. Don't come yet to this house of pest and age! We propose, when you and E. agree for the time, to come up and meet you at the B-'s, say a week hence, but do you make the appointment.

Mind, our spirits are good, and we are happy in your happinesses.

C. L.

Our old and ever new loves to dear Emma.

The following is Lamb's reply to a welcome communication of Sonnets, addressed by the bridegroom to the fair object of Lamb's regard— beautiful in themselves-and endeared to Lamb by honoured memories and generous hopes :

TO MR. MOXON.

Mary is of opinion with me, that two of these Sonnets are of a higher grade than any poetry you have done yet. The one to Emma is so pretty! I have only allowed myself to transpose a word in the third line. Sacred shall it be from any intermeddling of mine. But we jointly beg that you will make four lines in the room of the four last. Read "Darby and Joan," in Mrs. Moxon's first album. There you'll see how beautiful in age the looking back to youthful years in an old couple is. But it is a violence to the feelings to anticipate that time in youth. I hope you and Emma will have many a quarrel, and many a make-up (and she is beautiful in reconciliation !) before the dark days shall come, in which ye shall say "there is small comfort in them." You have begun a sort of