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letter he then wrote, though I took some pains previously to work on his feelings, was the poorest and most soulless thing ever you saw. I then set him to learn the poem of My Mother" in Darton's Original Poetry. Your letter to him came most opportunely to re-inforce the whole, and at last he has produced what I now send you. I went upstairs to his bedside the night before you left us, that I might impress upon him the importance of not suffering you to depart in anger: but instead of understanding me at first, he, like a child, thought I was come to whip him, and with great fervour and agitation, begged I would forgive him. He is very anxious that no one should see his letter but yourself, and I have promised to enforce his petition. . . .

"I shall be very happy to listen to you on that subject, on which so many poets have shone already, the praise of the country. But will you give me leave, my dearest love, to recall to your consideration the ties and bonds by which we are fettered? We cannot do as we would, and must be satisfied, for some time at least, if we can do at all. And do you really believe that the sordid thoughts that in London make a necessary part of your daily existence' could never find their way to Tilford? Alas, I am afraid that a narrow income, a numerous family, and many things to arrange and provide for, are the same everywhere. I am of my old friend Horace's opinion, that happiness may be found even in Rag fair (allow me the license of a translator) if we do but bring with us to the shed that covers us a well regulated mind.' Yet I swear to you, I will with all pleasure retire with you to the country, the moment you shall yourself pronounce it to be practicable.

"Will you allow me to play with you the part of a monitor? or will you think that is incompatible with the feelings of a lover? You have effected, as you have repeatedly told me, one most excellent revolution in yourself since your marriage, that of taking many things quietly that were once torture, for example, money embarrassments and importunities. That you did not so from the first, was owing to your estrangement from the usages of the world, and to the want of that easily acquired tincture of philosophy, that

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enables us to look at things as they will appear a week hence, or, for the most part, even to-morrow. That sorrow which will be no sorrow to-morrow, should not touch a wise woman's heart. The offences of children should be taken as from that sort of beings that children always are, yourself in your early years only excepted; the offences of tradesmen as from tradesmen ; and the nonsense of servants as from servants. Indeed, best beloved Mamma, if we do not learn this little lesson of prudence, it is not Tilford, no, nor Arno's Vale, nor the Thessalian Tempe, that will make us happy. Our vexations will follow us everywhere with our family, and, if you will allow me once more to quote Horace, when we mount our neighing steeds, Care will mount too, and cling close behind It is a sad thing, but such is the nature of human beings : we cannot have 'the dear, beyond all words dear objects,' as you so truly call them, that this roof covers, without having plenty of exercise for the sobriety and steadiness of our souls. Oh, that from this moment you would begin to attempt to cultivate that firmness and equanimity! You would then be everything that my fondest and warmest wishes could desire: you would be Tilford and Tuscany and Tempe all together, and you would carry them ever about in your heart. .

us.

"The most extraordinary thing I send is William's letter. Miss Smith, and all three children attest the fact. He asked Miss Smith to rule him some lines. When he began, she said to him, William, do not go out of the lines, and this was all the instruction he received.

"I think it is a little cruel of Fanny to have written to Charles and Jane, and not a line to her own sister.

"I called at Rowan's on Monday evening. Not at home. I then passed on to Carlisle's, and supped by accident on Carshalton fish. Tuesday I supped at Lamb's, and they are engaged to be here on Sunday evening. G. M. C. dined with us last Sunday. This is all I have to tell you of that sort.

"My foot is nearly well. I could distinguish you in the coach. as far as the corner of Chancery Lane. I thought you would have gone over Blackfriars' Bridge: but, as you went my way, I deter

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now. I shonid like to have

Wimbledon, for, wicked

now when have you complained that my **eek spoed your puensures. No al your pleasures. . . velvety Westert breeze! It almost tears my paper from

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I wore God send you may have had that, or something as refreshing as that, on your Thursday's ride!

Remember how complete a Jesuit Horne] Tooke] is Do not let hom worm anything from you, to be employed in assailing your lord and master afterward. . .

"Adicu, God bless you, as William says."

The occasion of the letter from Lamb cannot now be disCovered, but it is too characteristic of the writer to be omitted The disposition shown in it, at once so

genial and humble, prevented his little tiffs with Godwin from asrumming such serious proportions as did Godwin's misunderelandings with other friends.

A RECONCILIATION.

Charles Lamb to William Godwin.

151

* 1505

"I repent. Can that God whom thy votaries say that thou hast demolished expect more? I did indite a splenetic letter, but did the black Hypocondria never gripe thy heart, till thou hast taken a friend for an enemy? The foul fiend Flibbertigibbet leads me over four inched bridges, to course my own shadow for a traitor. There are certain positions of the moon, under which I counsel thee not to take anything written from this domicile as serious.

“I rank thee with Alves, Latinè, Helvetius, or any of his cursed crew? Thou art my friend, and henceforth my philosopher—thou shalt teach Distinction to the junior branches of my household, and Deception to the greyhaired Janitress at my door.

"What! Are these atonements? Can Arcadias be brought upon knees, creeping and crouching?

66

Come, as Macbeth's drunken porter says, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock-seven times in a day shalt thou batter at my peace, and if I shut aught against thee, save the Temple of Janus, may Briareus, with his hundred hands, in each a brass knocker, lead me such a life.

C. LAME."

CHAPTER VII.

POLITICS AND LITERARY WORK. 1806--1811.

A RENEWED intimacy, of which more hereafter, with Lords Holland and Lauderdale, awakened Godwin's somewhat waning interest in politics, which however, had only waned, because he had drifted out of political into purely literary circles. On the death of Charles James Fox, for whom his admiration had always been sincere, he wrote the éloge which is subjoined, and which was printed in the Morning Chronicle. It is an excellent specimen of his style at this period of his life, dignified and worthy of the great statesman, whose frailties are too well, whose services to liberty are too little remembered by this generation.

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To the Editor of the Morning Chronicle.'

SIR,-You will, if you think proper, insert the inclosed in your paper, and subscribe it with my name. It is an unexaggerated statement of what I think of the character of our lately deceased Minister, taken in a single point of view. In writing it, I have dismissed from my mind all temporary feelings of regret, and expressed myself with the severity and plainness of a distant posterity. I have nothing to do with Administration, and have scarcely a slight acquaintance with a few of its Members. My character, such as it is, and my disposition, are subjects of notoriety; and every one capable of judging righteous judgment, has a tolerably sound idea respecting them. Perhaps then even my

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