Part 7

Amid all these added adversities, he tried, with his cheerful and cheering courage, to make the best of it all. He found compensation in that they were “emancipated from the Westwoods,” and were settled “three or four miles nearer the great city, coaches half-price less, and going always, of which I will avail myself. I have few friends left there, but one or two most beloved. But London streets and faces cheer me inexpressibly, though not one known of the latter were remaining.” And yet he struggled to town still more

infrequently, and then only to find that, “with all my native hankering after it, it is not what it was.... The streets and shops entertaining as ever, else I feel as in a desert, and get me home to my care.” It is a touching sight, as we may picture it, that of the lonely man, with worn face and wistful eyes, wandering forlornly up and down his once familiar streets, seeing so seldom any of the once familiar faces. One day he met Mrs. Shelley in the Strand, and was--she wrote to Leigh Hunt--very entertaining and amiable, though a little deaf. He asked her if they made puns in Italy, and told her that Captain Burney once made a pun in Otaheite, the first that was ever made in that country. The natives could not make out what he meant; but all at once they discovered the pun, and danced round him in transports of joy!

During these lamentable days he saw his sister but seldom: “Alas! I too often hear her!... Her rambling chat is better to me than the sense and sanity of this world.” That is to me the most tender and touching utterance in all the letters since letters were invented.

At times, when her mind was not too turbid, she played piquet with him, and they talked of death; which they did not fear, nor yet wish for. Neither had been ever quite able to say with Sir Thomas Browne, in Lamb’s favourite “Religio Medici”: “I thank God I have not those strait ligaments, or narrow obligations to the world, as to dote on life, or be convulsed and tremble at the name of death.” Both wished that Mary should go first. Mrs. Cowden Clarke has told us how he said abruptly, one day--his blunt words covering his intense tenderness--“You must die first, Mary.” And she replied, with her little quiet nod and kindly smile: “Yes, I must die first, Charles!”

Death was much in their thoughts during these days. Hazlitt had died in 1830, Lamb being with him at the last; and in July, 1834, Coleridge ended, after long suffering, a life of “blighted utility,” as he himself truly put it. The passing away of this dearest of the old familiar faces profoundly affected Lamb. “His great and dear spirit haunts me. I cannot think a thought, I cannot make a criticism on men or books, without an ineffectual turning and reference to him.” Nor did he linger long alone. One day, in the winter of that year, taking his customary walk, he stumbled, fell, and bruised his face. The wound did not seem serious, until erysipelas suddenly set in, and rapidly drained him of his insufficient vitality. So, on the 27th of December, 1834, the Festival of St. John and the Eve of the Innocents, sank to sleep forever, in the fine words of Archbishop Leighton, “this sweet diffusive bountiful soul, desiring only to do good.” He was happy in not living, as he had said long before, “after all the strength and beauty of existence is gone, when all the ‘life of life is fled,’ as poor Burns expresses it.”

It was a peaceful and painless ending, yet infinitely pitiful in its loneliness for one so essentially social in his life; his sister’s mind being too clouded to comprehend what was passing, and his only two friends who happened to be within reach--Talfourd and Crabb Robinson--arriving too late for his recognition. They heard him murmuring, with his faint voice, the names of his dear old companions. Only a few days before he had shown to a friend the mourning-ring left him by Coleridge, crying out, as he was wont to do, “Coleridge is dead.” And it had been but two weeks since, when, during a walk, he had pointed out to his sister the spot in the churchyard where he would like to lie.

They laid him there, and she loved to walk to the grave of an evening, so long as she stayed in Edmonton. Indeed, she was with difficulty induced to go away for short visits to the Moxons and other friends. She was still at the Waldens in July, 1836, for an indenture has been shown to me lately, of that date and of that place, by which she disposes of the copyright of the “Tales from Shakespear” and of “Mrs. Leicester’s School.” This document was witnessed by Edward Moxon and Frederick Walden. Her signature to it is in distinct and unshaken characters, and her middle name is written without the final _e_, thus, curiously enough, spelling it Ann; for it was always elsewhere and by every one spelled Anne.

Later, her lucid intervals becoming less frequent and less prolonged, and her malady growing so nearly chronic that there was only “a twilight of consciousness in her,” she was kept under care and restraint in St. John’s Wood until her death, thirteen years after his. She rests by his side, in the same grave, as they both wished. His pension had been, with rare generosity, continued to her by the East India Company, and, in addition, she enjoyed the income of his small savings (£2,000) during her life; at her death it went to Emma Isola Moxon. This was the sum total of coin which he had gathered together; his real riches were lavishly dispensed during his life, and are hoarded now by all of us who love his memory.

We walk from Enfield by the same path across the fields through which Lamb escorted Wordsworth and his other visitors to the _Bell_ at Edmonton, there to take a parting glass with them, before the return coach to town should come along. That famous inn is no longer as it was in his day, even then still in the same state as it was when Cowper laughed all night at the diverting history of John Gilpin, just heard from Lady Austen, and said that he “must needs turn it into a ballad when he got up,” to relieve his reaction of melancholy. The balcony from which the thrifty wife gazed on Johnny’s mad career is gone, the very walls are levelled, a vilely vulgar gin-palace rises in their place, and the ancient sign, bearing the legend, _The Bell and John Gilpin’s Ride_, is now replaced by a great aggressive gilt emblem.

From here we turn, following Lamb’s last footsteps, perchance none too steady, along the London Road, past the old wooden taverns, steep-roofed and dormer-windowed, set well back from the highway, and on the green in front a mighty horse-trough--relic of ancient coaching conveniences. The _Golden Fleece_ and the _Horse and Groom_ are all unchanged; in his odd irony the modern builder has left them untouched, because they have no historic memories! Then we wind around under the railway arch, and so through dull, straggling Church Street; passing the little shop in which--then a surgery--John Keats served his apprenticeship, and wrote his “Juvenile Poems;” and by the one-storied Charity School, “A structure of Hope, Founded in

Faith, on the basis of Charity, 1784,” as the legend reads over the head of the queer little female figure in the niche. Its mistress, drawn by Lamb’s cheery voice as he came out, used to run to her window to look at the “spare, middle-sized man in pantaloons,” as she described him.

For Bay Cottage--so called in his day, now well re-named Lamb’s Cottage, next to the rampant lions on the gate-posts of Lion House--stands nearly opposite the small school; and it was through this long, narrow strip of front garden, cut by a gravelled footpath, and railed in by iron palings, that Charles Lamb walked for the last time, and was carried to his final resting-place. At its farther end squats the small cottage, darkened and made more diminutive by the projecting houses on both sides. On the left of the hall--large by contrast--is their snug sitting-room, not more than twelve feet square, low-ceilinged, deep-windowed, with a great beam above. Mounting by a narrow, winding, tiny staircase, with its Queen Anne balustrade--under which partly lies the dingy dining-room--we find ourselves in his front bedroom, his death-room, with one window only, as in the sitting-room beneath. Mary’s large bedroom is behind, with two good windows, looking out on the long strip of back garden, wherein are aged trees and young vegetables. Nothing within these walls has suffered any change.

It is but two minutes’ walk to the great, desolate graveyard, encircling all about the ancient church; whose square, squat, battlemented tower shows its mellow tints through dark masses of ivy. Service was going on when I went for the first time to this spot, a few years since, and I waited until the officiating clergyman had finished his functions, that I might learn from him the location of the grave I had come so far to see. _He could not tell me!_ He had heard that Charles Lamb was buried in his churchyard, but he had never seen the grave, nor had he been unduly inquisitive about it. After we had found it, a crippled impostor, lounging on the lookout for stray pence, scrambled up with affectation of mute sympathy, and swarmed down with scissors on the long grass about the small mound. That parson’s ignorance, the obscurity and desolation of the grave, the shocking structure of the stone-mason order of architecture dominating it, well-cared for, and aggressively commemorating one “Gideon Rippon, of the Eagle House, Edmonton, and of the Bank of England”: all this is typical of the relation borne by literature to Genteel Society in England. Its combined cohorts of The Nobility, Clergy, and Gentry do not know, and do not want to know, about the burial-place of their only Charles Lamb; but they do due reverence, with naïve and unconscious vulgarity, to the memory of the bank official who kept Books or handled Money. Lamb himself, with his large sense of the ludicrous and his small sense of the decorous, would have been tickled by the harmony between this state of affairs and his whole life. To this grave--a peopled solitude it is to us--come pilgrims from the other side of the ocean, and sometimes the Blue-Coat boys in small groups. The dreary and tasteless head-stone bears Cary’s feeble lines, affectionate enough, no doubt; but who cares to wade through a deluge of doggerel, to learn that Lamb’s “meek and harmless mirth no more shall gladden our domestic hearth”? The acutest criticism on this epitaph was made by a knowing “navvy,” who, having spelled it through painfully, said to his companion: “I’m blest if it isn’t as good as any in the churchyard; _but a bit too long_, eh, mate?”

They have quite lately put up, in the church’s single aisle, a mural monument, in which, under twin arches, perked up with crocketed commonplaces, are the medallion busts of Charles Lamb and William Cowper. Under the former--the only one which concerns us now--is cut this inscription, fitly followed by Wordsworth’s impressive lines: “In Memory of Charles Lamb, the gentle Elia, and author of the Tales from Shakespeare. Born in the Inner Temple, 1775, educated at Christ’s Hospital, Died at Bay Cottage, Edmonton, 1834, and buried beside his sister Mary in the adjoining churchyard--

“‘At the centre of his being lodged A soul by resignation sanctified: Oh, he was good, if e’er a good man lived.’”

INDEX.

“A Farewell to Tobacco,” 89.

Addison, Joseph, 78.

Ainger, Canon, 25.

“Album Verses,” 128.

Aldgate, 113.

“All’s Well That Ends Well,” 95.

Amiens, 99, 100.

Amwell river, 97, 115.

Anceps, 114.

Aram, Eugene, 61.

Aristotle, 4.

Ashe river, 23.

_Athenæum, The_, 128.

Aunt Hetty, 15, 40.

Austen, Lady, 135.

Bacon, Francis, 125.

Balzac, Honoré de, 57.

Bank of England, 139.

Bartholomew Fair, 112.

Bartlett’s Passage, 11.

Barton, Bernard, 61, 76, 102.

Bay Cottage, 137, 140.

Bedford, Duke of, 78.

Bentham, Jeremy, 4.

Bethnal Green, 114.

Bird, William, 12.

Bishopsgate, 29, 113.

Blakesware, 22, 25, 49, 97.

Blue-Coat School, The, 17, 20, 46, 47, 139.

Bodleian Library, 116.

Boswell, James, 5.

Boulogne, 68.

Bow Bells, 119.

Bow Street, 78, 79, 80.

Boythorn, 96.

Braham, J., 5.

Brick Court, 13.

Brighton, 98.

_British Ladies’ Magazine_, 28.

British Museum, 116, 123, 124.

Brompton Crescent, 34.

Browne, Sir Thomas, 44, 132.

Bruce Castle, 114.

Bruce, Robert, 114.

“Brutus,” 100.

Buildings, Bartlett’s, 11.

Buildings, Featherstone, 48.

Buildings, Mitre Court, 53, 54, 102.

Buildings, New, 7.

Buildings, Ram Alley, 8.

Buildings, Southampton, 41, 52, 54, 122.

Bulwer, Lytton, 62.

Buonaparte, General, 34.

Burney, Captain, 61, 131.

Burney, Fanny, 61.

Burney, Martin, 61, 68, 85, 120.

Burns, Robert, 133.

Byron, Lord, 3, 126.

Cambridge, 98, 107.

Carlyle, Thomas, 47, 72, 124.

Cary, Rev’d H. F., 124, 139.

Cary, F. S., 124.

Castlereagh, Lord, 70.

Cervantes, 75.

Chadwell river, 115.

Chancery Lane, 54, 123.

Chapel Street, 38, 52.

Charing Cross, 6, 19.

Charles I., 115.

Chatham, Earl of, 34.

Chelsea China, 111.

Christ’s Hospital, 16, 29, 41, 42, 69, 116, 140.

Church Street, 136.

Cibber, Colley, 78.

City, The, 6, 26, 47.

City Road, 103.

Clare, Allan, 49.

Clarke, Mrs. Cowden, 132.

Clifford’s Inn, 70.

Clive, Robert, 27.

Colburn, H., 126.

Colebrook Cottage, 110, 113, 116.

Colebrook Row, 102, 103.

Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 17, 19, 20, 33, 38, 40, 41, 44, 45, 46, 49, 50, 54, 59, 60, 63, 64, 65, 66, 77, 85, 96, 97, 98, 132, 134.

“Coleridge, Early Recollections of,” 126.

Colman, George, Jr., 5.

Congreve, William, 5.

Cornwall, Barry (See Procter).

Cornwallis, Lord, 27.

Cook, Captain, 61.

Coote, Sir Eyre, 27.

Cottle, Joseph, 126.

Covent Garden, 78, 80, 81, 102.

Cowper, William, 5, 135, 140.

Cranmer, Archbishop, 17.

Crown Office Row, 7, 8, 13, 14.

Cunningham, Allan, 61.

Dalston, 103.

Dante, 124.

D’Arblay, Madame, 61.

Da Vinci, 111.

De Quincey, Thomas, 62, 70, 93, 108.

“Deserted Village, The,” 13.

Dickens, Charles, 6, 62.

Drury Lane Theatre, 72, 81.

Dryden, John, 3, 78.

Dyer, George, 42, 68, 69, 70, 104, 105.

Eagle House, 139.

East India Company, 110, 135.

East India House, 5, 26, 30, 44, 82, 83, 126.

Edward VI., 17, 116.

Edmonton, 15, 114, 119, 129, 134, 135, 139, 140.

“Elia,” 9, 58, 71, 75, 76, 82, 94, 103, 125, 140.

“Elia, Bridget,” 21, 94.

“Elia, Last Essays of,” 119, 128.

Elizabeth, Princess, 116.

Elliston, R. W., 72.

Embankment, The, 14.

Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 64.

Enfield, 43, 112, 113, 114, 115, 118, 119, 120, 135.

Enfield Chase, 115.

“English Bards and Scotch Reviewers,” 126.

_Englishman’s Magazine, The_, 127, 128.

Epping Hills, 117.

Essays of Charles Lamb: Blakesmoor in H----shire, 24. Child Angel, The, 16. Confessions of a Drunkard, 74, 90. Mackery End, 94. My First Play, 42. New Year’s Eve, 51. Old Benchers of the Inner Temple, 9. Old Margate Hoy, The, 98. Peter’s Net, 127. Popular Fallacies, 127. South Sea House, The, 29. Superannuated Man, The, 111. Two Races of Men, The, 31.

Evans, William, 126.

Evelyn, John, 5, 112.

_Every Day Book, The_, 12, 123.

“Excursion, The,” 86.

Exeter Exchange, 6.

Falstaff, 105.

“Falstaff’s Letters,” 121.

Fetter Lane, 3, 11.

Field, Mrs., 22, 25.

Fielding, Henry, 5, 43.

Finden, W., 126.

Fleet Market, The, 18.

Fleet Street, 19, 122.

Forster, John, 5.

Franklin, Benjamin, 3.

_Fraser’s Magazine_, 127.

Fulleylove, John, 14.

Gardens, The Temple, 14.

Garrick, David, 9, 123.

Gate Street, 33.

Gay, John, 78.

Gilchrist, Mrs. Annie, 91.

Gilpin, John, 114, 135, 136.

Gladmans, The, 21.

Godwin, William, 60, 94.

Goethe, 57.

Goldsmith, Oliver, 5, 13.

“Good-Natur’d Man, The,” 13.

Göttingen, 66.

Gracechurch Street, 26.

Gray, Thomas, 107.

Great Fire, The, 26.

Great Turnstile, The, 48.

Gutch, John Mathew, 41, 53.

Hackney, 40.

Hackney Downs, 114.

“Hamlet,” 67.

Hancock, ----, 125.

Hand Court, 48.

Hare Court, 54.

Hart Street, 124.

Hastings, 98.

Hastings, Warren, 27.

Hatfield, 114.

Haydon, Benjamin R., 61, 70, 71, 77.

Hazlitt, William, 4, 41, 60, 65, 66, 73, 74, 77, 85, 91, 98, 99, 120, 122, 125, 132.

Hazlitt, Mrs., 69, 98.

Hazlitt, W. Carew, 38.

Helena, 95.

Heliogabalus, 87.

Helvellyn, 6.

Hermia, 95.

Hertfordshire, 21, 22.

“Hester,” 51.

Hogarth, William, 23, 58, 111.

Holborn, 11, 32, 33, 34, 38, 39, 40, 41, 48.

Holland House, 56.

Hollis Street, 3.

Holy Trinity Church, 32.

Hone, William, 12, 123.

Hood, Thomas, 4, 61, 112, 113, 115, 118, 120.

Hook, Theodore, 107.

Hoole, John, 27.

House of Commons, The, 86.

Hoxton, 34, 37, 40, 49.

Hunt, Leigh, 4, 17, 20, 45, 61, 76, 111, 120, 125, 126, 131.

Inner Temple Lane, 8, 9, 54, 59, 79.

Irving, Edward, 61.

Irving, Washington, 3.

Islington, 50, 52, 102, 104, 113, 128.

Isola, Emma, 107, 120, 121, 129.

Italy, 34, 131.

James I., 115.

Johnson, Samuel, 5, 6, 79.

Joseph, G. F., 126.

“Juvenile Poems,” 136.

Keats, John, 71, 136.

Kelly, Miss, 117.

King’s Bench Walk, 52.

Knowles, Mr., 34.

Lakes, The, 98.

Lamb, Charles (mentioned), 5, 7, 9, 11, 12, 13, 14, 17, 19, 20, 21, 24, 28, 29, 31, 33, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 54, 55, 56, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 79, 80, 85, 86, 90, 93, 94, 97, 100, 102, 104, 107, 108, 109, 112, 115, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 132, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140.

Lamb, John (the father), 9, 10, 28.

Lamb, John (the son), 14, 28, 29, 37, 38, 109.

Lamb, Mary (mentioned), 5, 11, 13, 14, 15, 21, 28, 38, 40, 41, 53, 55, 58, 69, 73, 74, 80, 81, 82, 89, 91, 94, 95, 97, 98, 99, 100, 103, 105, 107, 109, 112, 113, 118, 120, 121, 123, 124, 128, 130, 132, 138, 140.

Landor, Walter Savage, 96, 120, 121.

Lea river, 97, 114.

Leadenhall Street, 26, 32, 82, 110.

“Lear, King,” 77.

Leighton, Archbishop, 133.

Leipsic, 66.

Leishman, Mrs., 113.

Lime Street, 26.

Lincoln, Abraham. 75.

Lincoln’s Inn Fields, 32, 33, 48.

Lion House, 137.

Little Britain, 3.

Little Queen Street, 32, 42, 48.

Liverpool Road, 38.

Liverpool Street, 114.

Lloyd, Charles, 45, 61.

London, 3, 6, 7, 26, 74, 81, 97, 100, 115, 130.

London Fields, 114.

_London Magazine, The_, 62, 76, 82, 128.

London Road, 136.

“Lord Byron and His Contemporaries,” 126.

Louvre, The, 100.

“Lovel,” 9.

Lucan, 64.

“Lyrical Ballads,” 67.

“Macbeth,” 94.

Mackarel End, 21.

Mackery End, 21, 97.

Maclise, Daniel, 127.

Macready, W. C., 72.

Manning, Thomas, 30, 52, 53, 55, 61, 67, 72.

Manse, The, 117.

Margate, 98.

Metal Exchange, The, 26.

Meyer, Henry, 126.

Middleton, Bishop, 20.

“Midsummer Night’s Dream,” 95.

Mill, John Stuart, 27.

Milton, John, 3, 4, 67, 71, 130.

Molière, 75.

Montagu, Basil, 61.

Montaigne, 108.

Moore, Thomas, 71.

_Morning Chronicle, The_, 44.

Moxon, Edward, 127, 128, 129, 130, 134.

Moxon, Mrs., 130, 134, 135.

“Mr. H----, a Farce,” 72.

“Mrs. Leicester’s School,” 96, 134.

Mulready, William, 96.

Myddleton, Hugh, 115.

Napoleon, 60.

Nether Stowey, 64, 97.

_New Monthly Magazine, The_, 127, 128.

New River, 97, 102, 103, 104, 115, 116.

Newgate Street, 17, 46.

Newton, Isaac, 71.

Noggs, Newman, 38.

Occhini, 116.

Old Bailey, The, 18.

“On Needle-work,” 96.

Oriental Bank, The, 29.

Otaheite, 131.

“Othello,” 94.

Ovid, 23.

Oxford, 98, 99, 116.

Palace School, The, 116.

Paris, 68, 99, 100, 101.

Patmore, Coventry, 68.

Payne, John Howard, 99, 100.

“Pencillings by the Way,” 74.

Pentonville, 38, 39, 42, 48.

Pepys, Samuel, 79.

Petty France, 3.

Piscator, 114.

Pitt, William, 43, 115.

Plantagenet, 14.

Plumer Family, The, 22.

Poe, Edgar Allan, 71.

“Poems on Various Subjects,” 44.

“Poetry for Children,” 96.

Poplars, The, 117.

Portraits, of Charles Lamb, 124, 125, 126, 127; of Mary Lamb, 124.

Primrose Hill, 70.

Prior, Matthew, 9.

Procter, B. W. (Barry Cornwall), 5, 56, 61, 62, 92, 93, 104, 107.

Pulham, Brook, 127.

_Quarterly Review, The_, 75.

Ratcliffe Highway, 70.

Regent’s Canal, The, 103.

“Religio Medici,” 132.

Rickman, John, 86.

Ridley, Bishop Nicholas, 17.

Rippon, Gideon, 139.

Robinson, Crabb, 58, 59, 62, 63, 73, 99, 120, 125, 133.

Rousseau, 108.

Royal Academy, The, 127.

Russell, Lord John, 66.

Russell Street, 78, 79, 81, 82, 90, 102.

Sadler’s Wells, 103.

St. Andrews, 38, 39.

St. John’s Wood, 135.

St. Martin’s Lane, 6.

St. Paul’s, 19, 47.

St. Paul’s Churchyard, 6.

Salisbury, 98.

Salisbury Plain, 56.

Salt, Samuel, 8, 9, 10, 11, 16, 30, 32.

Seine river, 100.

Seven Sisters, The, 114.

Sévigné, Madame de, 57.

Shaftesbury, Lord, 43.

Shakespeare, 14, 21, 43, 67, 68, 94, 95, 134, 140.

Shelley, Percy Bysshe, 45.

Shelley, Mrs., 131.

Shenstone, William, 57.

Siddons, Mrs., 44.

Silver Street, 114.

Simmons, Ann, 48, 49.

Skiddaw, 6.

Smith, Sydney, 66.

Smollett, Tobias, 78.

South Sea House, The, 29.

Southey, Robert, 46, 75, 76.

Spenser, Edmund, 5.

Staple Inn, 54.

Starkey, ----, 12.

Steele, Richard, 78.

Sterne, Laurence, 57, 75.

Stoddart, Sarah, 92.

Strand, The, 6, 75, 131.

Surrey Hills, The, 52.

Swift, Jonathan, 9, 43, 78.

Swinburne, Algernon, 5.

_Table Book, The_, 123.

“Tale of Rosamund Gray and Old Blind Margaret,” 45, 49.

“Tales from Shakespear,” 96, 134, 140.

Talfourd, Thomas Noon, 45, 56, 62, 126, 133.

Talma, 101.

Tasso, 27.

Taverns: _Bell_, 135; _Bell and John Gilpin’s Ride_, 136; _Crown and Horseshoes_, 117; _Feathers_, 48; _Golden Fleece_, 136; _Horse and Groom_, 136; _Rising Sun_, 116; _Salutation and Cat_, 46, 47; _Swan_, 114.

Temple, The, 5, 6, 7, 8, 11, 13, 14, 18, 32, 52, 53, 54, 56, 57, 79, 80, 90, 94, 102, 140.

Thackeray, W. M., 87.

Thames river, 52.

“This Lime-Tree Bower my Prison,” 64.

Threadneedle Street, 29.

“Three Memorable Murders,” 70.

_Times, The London_, 34.

Titian, 5, 11.

Tottenham, 113.

_True Briton, The_, 36.

Tuileries, The, 100.

Van Diemen’s Land, 62.

Versailles, 100.

Wageman, ----, 126.

Wainewright, Thomas, 62.

Walden, Mr. and Mrs., 129, 130, 134.

Walton, Izaak, 10, 114.

“Walton Redivivus,” 115.

Ware, 25, 97, 114.

Warwick, Earl of, 14.

“Waverley,” 70.

Westminster, 3.

Westwoods, The, 118, 130.

Wheathampstead, 21.

White Hart Lane, 114.

White, James, 121.

Whittington, Richard, 26.

Widford, 25, 49.

Wild, Jonathan, 43.

Willis, N. P., 74.

Will’s Coffee House, 78.

Wilson, Walter, 88.

Wiltshire, 98.

Winterslow, 98.

Winterton, Alice, 48, 51.

Wordsworth, Dorothy, 80, 81, 97.

Wordsworth, William, 6, 31, 60, 63, 65, 67, 70, 73, 83, 87, 90, 97, 107, 109, 110, 117, 135, 140.

Worsley, P., 120.

Wren, Sir Christopher, 47.

* * * * *

BIBLIOGRAPHY,

BY

ERNEST D. NORTH.

PAGE

I. LEADING EVENTS IN LAMB’S LIFE 149

II. FIRST EDITIONS 150

III. THE “ELIA” ESSAYS 165

IV. REVIEWS, POEMS, ESSAYS, ETC. 168

V. COLLECTED WORKS 170

VI. SINGLE WORKS 172

VII. LETTERS 181

VIII. POETICAL WORKS 182

IX. LAMBIANA:

BIOGRAPHY, CRITICISMS, ETC. 182

MAGAZINE ARTICLES 189

The measurements given of the First Editions are for uncut copies, unless otherwise stated.

The edition of the Works and Letters of Lamb referred to is Canon Ainger’s.

In giving the title-pages no attempt has been made to reproduce the various types used.

I. LEADING EVENTS IN LAMB’S LIFE.