Born: Jacques Bernouilli,
mathematician, 1654,
Basle; Dr. Conyers Middleton, philosophical and
controversial writer, 1683, Hinderwell, near Whitby;
Pope Pius VI, 1717; Arthur Murphy, dramatist and
miscellaneous writer, 1727, Ireland.
Died: Pierre de Ronsard, poet, 1585, St. Cosme
Priory, near Tours; Thomas Cartwright, Puritan divine,
1603; Captain John Davis, navigator, killed near
Malacca, 1605; Thomas Guy, founder of Guy's Hospital,
1724, London; Henry Home, Lord Kames, lawyer and
metaphysician, 1782; Prince Lee Boo, of Pelew, 1784,
London; John Wilkes, celebrated demagogue, 1797; Dr.
Hugh Blair, eminent divine, 1800, Edinburgh,; Joanna
Southcott, female enthusiast and prophet, 1814,
London; Charles Lamb, poet and essayist, 1834,
Edmonton; Rev. William Jay, eminent dissenting
preacher, 1853, Bath,; Josiah Conder, editor and
miscellaneous writer, 1855.
Feast Day: St. John, apostle and evangelist. St. Theodorus
Grapt, confessor, 9th century.
ST. JOHN
THE EVANGELIST'S DAY
A special reverence and interest is attached to St.
John�'the disciple whom Jesus loved.' Through a
misapprehension of the Saviour's words, a belief, we
are informed, came to he entertained among the other
apostles that this disciple should never die, and the
notion was doubtless fostered by the circumstance,
that John outlived all his brethren and coadjutors in
the Christian ministry, and was indeed the only
apostle who died' a natural death. He expired
peacefully at Ephesus, it is stated, at the advanced
age of ninety-four, in the reign of the Emperor Trajan,
and the year of our Lord 100; thus, as Brady observes,
'making the first century of the Christian Era and
the Apostolical Age, terminate together.'
Though John thus escaped actual martyrdom, he was,
nevertheless, called upon to endure great persecution
in the cause of his Friend and Master. Various fathers
of the church, among others Tertullian and
St. Jerome,
relate that in the reign of Domitian, the Evangelist,
having been accused of
attempting to subvert the religion of the Roman
Empire, was transported from Asia to Rome, and there,
in presence of the emperor and senate, before the gate
called Porta Latina, or the Latin Gate, he was
cast into a caldron of boiling oil, which he not only
remained in for a long time uninjured, but ultimately
emerged from, with renovated health and vigor. In
commemoration of this event, the Roman Catholic Church
retains in its calendar, on the 6th of May, a festival
entitled 'St. John before the Latin Gate.' Domitian,
we are further informed, notwithstanding this
miraculous interposition, continued obdurate, and
banished St. John to Patmos, a lonely island in the
Grecian Archipelago, where he was employed in working
among the criminals in the mines. In this dreary
abode, the apostle, as he informs us himself,
witnessed those sublime and wondrous visions, which he
has recorded King the Apocalypse.
On the assassination of Domitian, and the elevation
of Nerva to the imperial throne, John was released
from his confinement at Patmos, and returned to
Ephesus, where he continued till his death. A
tradition obtains, that in his last days, when unable
to walk to church, he used to be carried thither, and
exhorted the congregation in his own memorable words,
'Little children, love one another.' Partly in
reference to the angelic and amiable disposition of
St. John, partly also, apparently, in allusion to the
circumstance of his having been the youngest of the
apostles, this evangelist is always represented as a
young man, with a heavenly mien and beautiful
features. He is very generally represented holding in
his left hand an urn, from which a demoniacal figure
is escaping. This device appears to bear reference to
a legend which states that, a priest of Diana having
denied the divine origin of the apostolic miracles,
and challenged St. John to drink a cup of poison which
he had prepared, the Evangelist, to remove his
skepticism, after having first made on the vessel the
sign of the cross, emptied it to the last drop without
receiving the least injury. The purging of the cup
from all evil is typified in the flight from it of
Satan, the father of mischief; as represented in the
medieval emblem. From this legend, a superstitious
custom seems to have sprung of obtaining, on
St. John's Day, supplies
of hallowed wine, which was both drunk and used in the
manufacture of manchets or little loaves; the
individuals who partook of which were deemed secure
from all danger of poison throughout the ensuing year.
The subjoined allusion to the practice occurs in
Googe's translation of Naogeorgus:
'Nexte John the sonne of Zebedee hath his
appoynted day,
Who once by cruell Tyrannts' will, constrayned was
they say
Strong poyson up to drinke; therefore the Papistes
doe beleeve
That whoso puts their trust in him, no poyson them
can greeve:
The wine beside that halowed is in worship of his
name,
The Priestes doe give the people that bring money
for the same.
And after with, the selfe same wine are little
manchets made
Agaynst the boystrous Winter stormes, and sundrie
such like trade.
The men upon this solemne day, do take this holy
wine
To make them strong, so do the maydes to make them
faire and fine.'
THOMAS GUY, AND GUY'S
HOSPITAL: 'BOOKSELLERS AND STATIONERS'
There is one noble institution in the metropolis,
Guy's Hospital, which renders a vast amount of good to
the poor, without any appeal either to the national
purse or to private benevolence. Or, more correctly,
this is a type of many such institutions, thanks to
the beneficence of certain donors. Once now and then,
it is necessary to bring public opinion to bear upon
these charities, to insure equitable management; but
the charities themselves are noble.
Thomas Guy was the son of a coal-merchant and
lighterman, at Horseleydown, and was born in 1645. He
did not follow his father's trade, but was apprenticed
to a bookseller, and became in time a freeman and
liveryman of the Stationers' Company. He began
business on his own account as a book-seller, in a
shop at the corner of Cornhill and Lombard Street,
pulled down some years ago when improvements were made
in that neighbourhood. He made large profits, first by
selling Bibles printed in Holland, and then as a
contractor for printing Bibles for Oxford University.
He next made much money in a way that may, at the
present time, seem beneath the dignity of a city
shopkeeper, but which in those days was deemed a
matter of course: viz., by purchasing seamen's
tickets. The government, instead of paying seamen
their wages in cash, paid them in bills or tickets due
at a certain subsequent date; and as the men were too
poor or too improvident to keep those documents until
the dates named, they sold them at a discount to
persons who had ready cash to spare.
Mr. Guy was one of those who, in this way, made a
profit out of the seamen, owing to a bad system for
which the government was responsible. About that time,
too, sprung up the notorious scheme called the
South-Sea Company, which
ultimately brought ruin and
disgrace to many who had founded or fostered it. Guy
did not entangle himself in the roguery of the
company; but he bought shares when low, and had the
prudence to sell out when they were high. By these
various means he accumulated a very large fortune.
Pennant deals with him rather severely (in his
History of London) for the mode in which a great
part of his fortune was made; but, taking into
consideration the times in which he lived, his
proceedings do not seem to call for much censure. When
his fortune was made, he certainly did good with it.
He granted annuities to many persons in impoverished
circumstances he made liberal benefactions to St.
Thomas's Hospital; he founded an almshouse at
Tamworth, his mother's native town; he left a
perpetual annuity of �400 to Christ's Hospital, to
receive four children yearly nominated by his trustees
and he gave large sums for the discharge of poor
debtors. The following anecdote of him may here be
introduced:
'[Guy] was a man of very humble appearance, and
of a melancholy cast of countenance. One day, while
pensively leaning over one of the bridges, he
attracted the attention and commiseration of a
bystander, who, apprehensive that he meditated
self-destruction, could not refrain from addressing
him with an earnest entreaty "not to let his
misfortunes tempt him to commit any rash act;" then,
placing in his hand a guinea, with the delicacy of
genuine benevolence, he hastily withdrew. Guy,
roused from his reverie, followed the stranger, and
warmly expressed his gratitude; but assured him he
was mistaken in supposing him to be either in
distress of mind or of circumstances making an
earnest request to be favoured with the name of the
good man, his intended benefactor. The address was
given, and they parted. Some years after, Guy,
observing the name of his friend in the
bankrupt-list, hastened to his house; brought to his
recollection their former interview; found, upon
investigation, that no blame could be attached to
him under his misfortunes; intimated his ability and
full intention to serve him; entered into immediate
arrangements with his creditors; and finally
re-established him in a business which ever after
prospered in his hands, and in the hands of his
children's children, for many years, in Newgate
Street.'
The great work for which Thomas Guy is remembered,
is the hospital bearing his name, in the borough. In
connection with the foundation of this building, a
curious anecdote has been related, which, though now
somewhat hackneyed, will still bear repetition. Guy
had a maid-servant of strictly frugal habits, and who
made his wishes her most careful study. So attentive
was she to his orders on all occasions, that he
resolved to make her his wife, and he accordingly
informed her of his intention. The necessary
preparations were made for the wedding; and among
others many little repairs were ordered, by Mr. Guy,
in and about his house. The latter included the laying
down a new pavement opposite the street-door. It so
happened that Sally, the bride-elect, observed a
portion of the pavement, beyond the boundary of her
master's house, which appeared to her to require
mending, and of her own accord she gave orders to the
workmen to have this job accomplished. Her directions
were duly attended to in the absence of Mr. Guy, who,
on his return, perceived that the workmen had carried
their labours beyond the limits which he had assigned.
On inquiring the reason, he was informed that what had
been done was by the mistress's orders.'
Guy called the foolish Sally, and telling her that
she had forgotten her position, added:
'If you take upon yourself to order matters
contrary to my instructions before we are married,
what will you not do after? I therefore renounce my
matrimonial intentions towards you.'
Poor Sally, by thus assuming an authority to which
she then had no claim, lost a rich husband, and the
country gained the noble hospital; named after its
founder, who built and endowed it at a cost of
�238,292.
Guy was seventy-six years of age when he matured
the plan for founding an hospital. He procured a large
piece of ground on a lease of 999 years, at a rent of
�30 per annum, and pulled down a number of poor
dwellings which occupied the site. He laid the first
stone of his new hospital in 1722, but did not live to
witness the completion of the work; for he died on the
27th of December 1724--just ten days before the
admission of the first sixty patients. His trustees
procured an act of parliament for carrying out the
provisions of his bequest. They leased more ground,
and enlarged the area of the hospital to nearly six
acres; while the endowment or maintenance fund was
laid out in the purchase of estates in Essex,
Herefordshire, and Lincolnshire.
The building itself is large and convenient, but
not striking as an architectural pile. This has indeed
been a lucky hospital; for, nearly a century after
Guy's death, an enormous bequest of nearly �200,000
was added to its funds. Mr. Hunt, in 1829, left this
sum, expressly to enlarge the hospital to the extent
of one hundred additional beds. The rental of the
hospital estates now exceeds �30,000 per annum. In the
open quadrangle of the hospital is a bronze statue of
Guy by Scheemakers; and in the chapel, a marble statue
of him by Bacon.

A stationer's stall, or
bookshop in the olden time
|
ln
connection with Thomas Guy, who, of all the members of
the Stationers' Company of London, may certainly he
pronounced to have been one of the most successful in
the acquisition of wealth, an interesting circumstance
regarding the original import of the term stationer
calls here for notice. Up to about the commencement of
the last century, the term in question served almost
exclusively to denote a bookseller, or one who had a
station or stall in some public place for the sale of
books. An instance of this application of it occurs in
the following passage in Fuller's
Worthies of
England:
'I will not add that I have passed my
promise (and that is an honest man's bond) to my
former stationer, that I will write nothing for the
future, which was in my former hooks so considerable
as may make them interfere one with another to his
prejudice.'
The annexed engraving exhibits a stationer's stall
or bookseller's shop in ancient times, when books were
generally exposed for sale in some public place in the
manner here represented. A parallel to this mode of
conducting business still exists in the book-fairs at
Leipsic and Frankfort, in Germany. In medieval days,
the stationarius or stationer was an official
connected with a university, who sold at his stall or
station the books written or copied by the libraries
or book-writer. From this origin is derived the modern
term stationer, which now serves exclusively to denote
an individual whose occupation consists in supplying
the implements instead of the productions of literary
labour.
JOANNA SOUTHCOTT
Joanna Southcott was born about the year 1750, of
parents in very humble life. When about forty years
old, she assumed the pretensions of a prophetess, and
declared herself to be the woman mentioned in the
twelfth chapter of the Book of Revelation. She
asserted that, having received a divine appointment to
be the mother of the Messiah, the visions revealed to
St. John would speedily be fulfilled by her agency and
that of the son, who was to be miraculously born of
her. Although extremely illiterate, she scribbled much
mystic and unintelligible nonsense as visions and
prophecy, and for a time carried on a lucrative trade
in the sale of seals, which were, under certain
conditions, to secure the salvation of the purchasers.
The imposture was strengthened by her becoming subject
to a rather rare disorder, which gave her the
appearance of pregnancy after she had passed her grand
climacteric. The faith of her followers now rose to
enthusiasm. They purchased, at a fashion-able
upholsterer's, a cradle of most expensive materials,
and highly decorated, and made costly preparations to
hail the birth of the miraculous babe with joyous
acclamation.
The delusion spread rapidly and extensively,
especially in the vicinity of London, and the number
of converts is said to have amounted to upwards of one
hundred thousand. Most of them were of the humbler
order, and remarkable for their ignorance and
credulity; but a few were of the more educated
classes, among whom were two or three clergymen. One
of the clergymen, on being reproved by his diocesan,
offered to resign his living if 'the holy Johanna,' as
he styled her, failed to appear on a certain day with
the expected Messiah in her arms. About the close of
1814, however, the prophetess herself began to have
misgivings, and in one of her lucid intervals, she
declared that 'if she had been deceived, she had
herself been the sport of some spirit either good or
evil.'
On the 27th of December in that year, death put
an end to her expectations�but not to those of her
disciples. They would not believe that she was really
dead. Her body was kept unburied till the most active
signs of decomposition appeared; it was also subjected
to a post-mortem examination, and the cause of her
peculiar appearance fully accounted for on medical
principles. Still, numbers of her followers refused to
believe she was dead; others flattered themselves that
she would speedily rise again, and bound themselves by
a vow not to shave their beards till her resurrection.
It is scarcely necessary to state, that most of
them have passed to their graves unshorn. A few are
still living, and within the last few years several
families of her disciples were residing together near
Chatham, in Kent, remarkable for the length of their
beards, and the general singularity of their manners
and appearance. Joanna Southcott was interred, under a
fictitious name, in the burial-ground attached to the
chapel in St. John's Wood, London. 'A stone has since
been erected to her memory, which, after reciting her
age and other usual particulars, concludes with some
lines, evidently the composition of a still unshaken
believer, the fervor of whose faith far exceeds his
inspiration as a poet.'
CHARLES AND MARY
LAMB
The lives of literary men are seldom characterised
by much stirring adventure or variety of incident. The
interest attaching to them consists mainly of the
associations with which they are intertwined�the joys,
trials, and sorrows of their domestic history, and the
tracing of the gradual development of their genius to
its culminating-point, from its first unfledged
essays. In contemplating their career, much benefit
may he derived both by the philosopher and
moralist�the former of whom will gain thereby a deeper
and more thorough knowledge of the workings of human
nature, and the latter reap many an instructive and
improving lesson.
Few biographies display so much beauty, or are more
marked by a touching and lively interest, than those
of Charles Lamb and his sister Mary. Devotedly
attached to each other, united together by a strong
sympathy both in mental and physical temperament, and
a highly-refined and cultivated literary taste, they
passed from youth to age; and when first the brother,
and afterwards the sister, were laid in the same
grave, in the peaceful churchyard of Edmonton, it
might truly be said of them, that they 'were lovely
and pleasant in their lives, and in their death they
were not divided.' We shall now present the reader
with a brief sketch of their history.
Their father, John Lamb, was a clerk to Mr. Salt, a
bencher of the Inner Temple; and in Crown Office how
of this classic locality, Charles was born in February
1775. His sister Mary was ten years older than
himself, and there was also an elder brother, John.
Young Lamb's early associations were thus all of a
quaint and antiquarian nature. The grand old Temple
church, so impressive, both from its architectural
beauty and the romantic interest attached to its
former possessors, the
Knights Templars', who repose
in its precincts; the dim walks and passages of the
inns-of-court, redolent alike of learning and
jurisprudence; and the pleasant sunny gardens
descending to the noble Thames, where King Edward of
yore had mustered a gallant array of knighthood and
men-at-arms, ere setting forth on his last expedition
to Scotland�all combined to stamp their impress on the
mind of a sensitive, affectionate, and poetic child.
At the age of seven, he obtained a presentation to
Christ's Hospital, where the ensuing seven years of
his life were spent, and a lasting friendship formed
with the poet Coleridge, then a
student at the same
institution. Lamb made here considerable progress in
classical learning; but an impediment of speech, which
clung to him through life, prevented him, as
originally intended, from entering the church, a
profession indeed to which his inclinations were not
adapted; and he accordingly quitted school at
fourteen, and was placed for a time in the South-sea
House, where his brother John held a situation. From
this he was, in a year or two, transferred to a
clerkship in the East India House, an establishment in
which he gradually rose to the enjoyment of a large
salary; and was ultimately pensioned off on a handsome
allowance, a few years previous to his death.
Shortly after entering on this employment, his
parents removed from the Temple to Little Queen
Street, Holborn. The pecuniary resources of the family
were at this time but scanty, consisting of Charles's
then small salary from the East India House, an
annuity enjoyed by his father from the liberality of
his old master, Mr. Salt, and the scanty returns which
his sister Mary could procure by her industry with the
needle. Old Mr. Lamb was now sinking into dotage, and
his wife was stricken by an infirmity which deprived
her of the use of her limbs. An old maiden-aunt, whom
Charles has affectionately commemorated, resided with
them, and paid them a small board. Notwithstanding all
the difficulties with which they had to struggle, the
affection which bound the different members of the
family together, and, more especially, Mary and
Charles, secured their enjoyment of a large share of
happiness; but a fearful misfortune was about to
overtake them.
A predisposition to insanity seems to have been
inherited by the Lambs. At the age of twenty, Charles
was seized by a fit of this malady, which compelled
his removal, for a few weeks, to a lunatic asylum. His
recovery, however, was complete and final; and till
the end of his life his intellect remained sound and
unclouded. A sadly different fate was that of poor
Mary, his sister. Worn out by her double exertions in
sewing and watching over her mother, who required
constant attention, her mind which, on previous
occasions, had been subject to aberration, gave way,
and burst into an ungovernable frenzy. One day after
the cloth had been laid for dinner, the malady
attacked her with such violence, that, in a transport
she snatched up a knife, and plunged it into the
breast of her mother, who was seated, an invalid, in a
chair. Her father was also present, but unable from
frailty to interpose any obstacle to her fury; and she
continued to brandish the fatal weapon, with loud
shrieks, till her brother Charles entered the room,
and took it from her hand. Assistance was procured,
and the unfortunate woman was conveyed to a madhouse,
where, in the course of a few weeks, she recovered her
reason. In the meantime, her mother was dead, slain,
though in innocence, by her hand; her father and aunt
were helpless; and her brother John disposed to concur
with the parish authorities and others in detaining
her for life in confinement. In this conjuncture,
Charles stepped forward, and by pledging himself to
under-take the future care of his sister, succeeded in
obtaining her release.
Nobly did he fulfill his engagement by the sedulous
and unremitting care with which he continued ever
afterwards to watch over her, abandoning all hopes of
marriage to devote himself to the charge which he had
undertaken. It was a charge, indeed, unfrequently
onerous, as Miss Lamb's complaint was constantly
recurring after intervals, necessitating her removal
for a time to an asylum. It was a remarkable
circumstance connected with her disease, that she was
perfectly conscious of its approach, and would inform
her brother, with as much gentleness as possible, of
the fact, upon which he would ask leave of absence
from the India House, as if for a day's pleasuring,
and accompany his sister on her melancholy journey to
the place of confinement. On one of these occasions,
they were met crossing a meadow near Hoxton by a
friend, who stopped to speak to them, and learned from
the weeping brother and sister their destination. In
setting forth on the excursions which at first they
used to make annually, during Lamb's holidays, to some
place in the country, Mary would always carefully pack
up in her trunk a strait-waistcoat, to be used in the
event of one of her attacks coming on. Latterly, these
jaunts Earl to lie abandoned, as they were found to
exercise on her all injurious influence.
The attendance required from Lamb at the India
House was from ten to four every day, leaving him in
general the free enjoyment of his evenings. These were
devoted to literary labours and studies, diversified
not unfrequently by social meetings with his friends,
of whom his gentle and amiable nature had endeared to
him an extensive circle. On Wednesday evenings, he
usually held a reception, at which the principal
literary celebrities of the day would assemble, play
at whist, and discuss all matters of interest relating
to literature, the fine arts, and the drama. Among
those present on these occasions, in Lamb's younger
days, might be seen Godwin,
Hunt, and Hazlitt, and
when in town, Wordsworth, Southey, and Coleridge. At a
later period, Allan Cunningham, Cary,
Edward Irving,
and
Thomas Hood would be found among the guests.
Shortly after Miss Lamb's first release from
confinement, her brother and she removed from Holborn
to Bentonville, where, however, they did not remain
long, and in 1800 took up their abode in the Temple,
in which locality, dear to the hearts of both of them
from early associations, they resided about seventeen
years, probably the happiest period of their
existence. From the Temple, they removed to Russell
Street, Covent Garden, and thence to Colebrook
Cottage, Islington, on the banks of the New River,
where, rather curious to say, Lamb, for the first time
in his life, found himself raised to the dignity of a
householder, having hitherto resided always in
lodgings. Not long, too, after his settling in this
place, he exchanged the daily drudgery of the desk for
the independent life of a gentleman at large, having
been allowed to retire from the India House on a
comfortable pension. In a few years, however, his
sister's increasing infirmities, and the more frequent
recurrence of her mental disorder, induced him to quit
London for the country, and he took up his abode at
Enfield, from which he afterwards migrated to
Edmonton. Here, in consequence of the effects of
a fall, producing erysipelas in the head, he expired
tranquilly and without pain, after a few days'
illness, in December 1834. His sister was labouring at
the time under one of her attacks, and was therefore
unable to feel her loss with all the poignancy which
she would otherwise have experienced. She survived her
brother for upwards of twelve years, and having been
latterly induced by Her friends to remove from Enfield
to London, died quietly at St. John's Wood on 20th May
1847.
It is now proper to refer to Lamb's literary works.
Being independent of the pen as a main support, his
writings are more in the character of fugitive pieces,
contributed to magazines, than of weighty and
voluminous lucubration's. As an author, his name will
principally be recollected by his celebrated
Essays of Elia,
originally contributed to the London Magazine,
and a second series, even superior to the first,
entitled the Last Essays of Ella. These
delightful productions, so racy and original, place
Lamb incontestably in the first rank of our British
essayists, and fairly entitle him to contest the palm
with Addison and Steele. Egotistical they may in one
sense be termed, as the author's personal feelings and
predilections, with many of his peculiar traits of
character, are brought prominently forward; but the
egotism is of the most charming and unselfish kind�a
sentiment which commends itself all the more winningly
to us when he conies to speak of his sister under the
appellation of his Cousin Bridget. Other essays and
pieces were contributed by him to various periodicals,
including Leigh Hunt's
Reflector,
Blackwood's Magazine, and the Englishman's
Magazine, and bear all the same character of
quaintness, simplicity, and playful wit.
In his early days, his tendencies had been
principally exerted in the direction of poetry, in the
production of which there was a sort of co-partnership
betwixt him and Coleridge, along with Charles Lloyd,
and a volume of pieces by the trio was published at
Bristol in 1797. As a votary of the Muses, however,
Lamb's claims cannot be highly rated, his poems,
though graceful and melodious, being deficient both in vigour and originality of
thought. The one dramatic
piece, the farce of Mr. IT, which he succeeded
in getting presented on the boards of Drury Lane, was
shelved on the first night of its representation. The
disappointment was borne manfully by him, and as he
sat with his sister in the pit, Lamb joined himself in
the hisses by which the fate of his unfortunate
bantling was sealed.
Allusion has already been made to Lamb's amiability
of disposition. Through the whole course of his life
he never made a single enemy, and the relations
between him and his friends were scarcely ever
disturbed by the slightest fracas. To use a favourite
expression of Lord Jeffrey, 'he
was eminently
sweet-blooded.'
Though of a highly poetic and imaginative
temperament, Lamb took little pleasure in rural
scenery. A true child of London, no landscape, in his
estimation, was comparable with the crowded and
bustling streets of the great metropolis,
Covent-Garden Market and its piazzas, or the gardens
of the inns of court. A visit to Drury Lane or
Covent-Garden Theatre in the evening, a rubber at
whist, or a quiet fireside-chat with a few friends,
not unaccompanied by the material consolations of
sundry steaming beverages and the fragrant fumes of
the Virginian weed, were among his dearest delights.
One unfortunate failing must here be recorded�his
tendency, on convivial occasions, to exceed the limits
of temperance. This, however, can scarcely be regarded
as a habitual error on his part, and has probably
received a greater prominence than it merited, from
his well-known paper,
The
Confessions of a Drunkard, in which he has so
graphically described the miserable results of excess.
Another predilection, his addiction to the use of
tobacco, was ultimately overcome by him after many
struggles. His tastes, in the consumption of the
fragrant weed, were not very delicate, inducing him to
use the strongest and coarsest kinds. On being asked
one day by a friend, as he was puffing forth huge
volumes of smoke, how he had ever managed to acquire
such a practice, he replied: 'By striving after it as
other men strive after virtue. His convivial habits
leading him not unfrequently to 'hear the chimes at
midnight,' his appearance at business next morning was
some-times considerably beyond the proper hour. On
being one day reproved by his superior for his
remissness in this respect, the answer was:
'True, sir, very true, I often conic late, but
then, you know, I always go away early.'
To a man of his disposition, it can be readily
supposed that the dull routine of his duties at the
India House was a most distasteful drudgery, and we
accordingly find him often bewailing humorously his
lot in letters to his correspondents. His good sense,
however, rendered him perfectly aware of the benefits
of regular employment and a fixed income, and his
complaints must therefore be regarded in a great
measure as ironical, the offspring of the spirit of
grumbling, so characteristic of the family of John
Bull.
During the intervals of her malady, Miss Lamb
appeared in her natural and attractive aspect, the
well-bred mistress of her brother's house, doing its
honours with all grace, and most tenderly solicitous
and careful in everything relating to his comfort. Her
conversation and correspondence were both lively and
genial, and possessing the same literary tastes as
Charles, she was often associated with him in the
production of various works. These were chiefly of a
juvenile nature, including the charming collection of
Tales from Shakespeare; Mrs. Leicester's School; and
Poetry for Children.
December 28th