xt7qjq0stw34_2152 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/mets.xml https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474.dao.xml unknown archival material 1997ms474 English University of Kentucky The physical rights to the materials in this collection are held by the University of Kentucky Special Collections Research Center.  Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. W. Hugh Peal manuscript collection Clippings and essays on Charles Lamb text 43.94 Cubic Feet 86 boxes, 4 oversize boxes, 22 items Poor-Good Peal accession no. 11453. Clippings and essays on Charles Lamb 2017 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt7qjq0stw34/data/1997ms474/Box_21/Folder_5/Multipage7303.pdf 1895-1898, undated 1898 1895-1898, undated section false xt7qjq0stw34_2152 xt7qjq0stw34  

also a diversity of opinion as to how such a.
union would work, I think I can do ndbetter
than ask you, without any comment of Iny own,
to print the following letter-sAone from M.
Fouret, senior partner of Messrs. Hachette, of
Paris, and the other from Mr. Brockhaus, of
Leipzig—both showing the salutary working of
their respective unions. I have translated them
for the convenience of your readers.

Paris, Dec. 8, 1802.

DEAR MR. HEINEMANN,—I hasten to acknow-
ledge the receipt of yours of the 6th inst.

I had already read with much interest your letter
to the Athcnmum, and had not waited for you to
draw my attention to it before showing it to my
cousin Templier, new president of our Cercle de la
Librairie. He has ordered that it shall be trans-
lated, and will doubtless have it published—if not
in itsentirety, at least in part—in La. Bibliographic
(16 la. France, the organ of our society.

The conditions under which we work differ so
widely from yours that it is very difficult for me to
pass an opinion on the “ hardships ” which you now
suffer. You know, probably, as well as I, that up to
the present moment the cost of composition, print-
ing, stitching, and binding has remained station-
ary ; that the price of paper has, on the other hand,
fallen to an astonishingly low figure during the last
ten years; that the processes of engraving permit the
publication of illustrated books at exceedingly cheap
rates. I shall, however, astonish you when I say
that all these facilities, which ought to have en-
riched the publisher, have to a great extent brought
about the crisis through which we are passing, by
encouraging an over-production which has glutted
the market.

We can only meet you on common ground with
regard to the sad condition of retail booksellers. I
see and know that they are scarcely more fortunate
with you than in France, and that in order to live
they are forced to annex other businesses, which
absorb and prevent them from applying themselves
seriously to their books in order to have them well
assortc , which is the first condition of ensuring an
easy sale.

The mass of new publications, more or less literary,
which floods the French market, ruins the sale of
standard works. In 1891 we had on sale on our
railway bookstalls more than 1,500 new publications.
How is it possible with such a number of new works
for a bookseller worthy of the name to keep abreast
of current literature, and have besides a good assort-
ment of the classics? He would require the book-
shelves of the British Museum 1 One of the fatal
consequences of this state of things is that now the
actual sale of high-class books is extraordinarily
short-lived, and standard works are daily becoming


I will not here touch upon the question of under-
selling. We are trying at the present moment to
struggle against this baneful custom in the book-
selling trade, for it. ruins the retailer without bring-
ing much prolitto either the publisher or the public.
The results obtained hitherto, although far removed
from what they should be, are much more promising
than in the first. instance we had dared to hope;
but a great deal still remains to be done, and the
future alone will decide whether there is any solu-
tion of this fundamental question.

In all difficulties against which we have to con-
tend, at all times when we are called upon to defend
our common interests, to discuss amongst ourselves
or with our legal advisers questions concerning
literary property, international exhibitions, taxes,
home and export trade, we call a meeting at our
Cercle de la Librairie. There we walk hand in hand.
finding in united action a strength which the most
influential house could not acquire alone.

I cannot too strongly urge upon all English pub-
lishers to imitate our example, to found a society
like our own, the aim of which should be to solve
not only the difficulties referred to in your letter,
but those hidden in the future. I am convinced
that, once having made the experiment, they would
recognize all the advantages which must inevitably
result from such a union. Yours sincerely,


Leipzig, Dec. 10, 1892.

DEAR MR.HEINEMA1\‘N,—Your letterintheAt/m-
mama has been of quite extraordinary interest to
me, and although I am fairly well acquainted with
English publishing and bookselling, still I do not
consider myself sufficiently competent to form an
independent judgment. Your exposition of the
condition of affairs seems unbiassed, and I entirely
agree with you that it is high time that, in the very
home of trades unions, some combination among
publishers and booksellers should be formed such as
has existed in Germany for many years past. I am


not able to go deeply into the question, but I
send you herewith the statutes and regulations of
the central society with its numerous branches
all over Germany, Austria, and Switzerland. In
explanation of the whole, I may mention that the
Borsenverein counts among its members almost
every respectable firm in the whole area; butin
close connexion with it there are alarge number
of sub-societies, limiting their operations to certain
given territories as well as to certain branches of
the business. There are societies of publishers,
of booksellers, of second-hand booksellers. of
commission houses, of music publishers, &c.. all of
them more or less closely affiliated and under the
statutory regulations of the Bersenvercin. The
Bdrsenverein has extended, or rather limited, its
operations to the performance of three tasks, in
each of which it has not only been successful, but a
complete blessing. I will enumerate them.

1. Discountabuses, with which you deal so fully,
had assumed in Germany, Austria,and Switzerland
such dimensions, that a few years ago it became an
absolute necessity to combat the evil collectively.
The regulations of the Biirsenvcrein, as well as the
special rules of the diflerent sub-societies, are formed
to fight the evil of underselling, and the success of
this fight has been such that I think we can say,at the
present moment, that such a thing as underselling
and giving exceptional discounts is almost entirely
stamped out; and this without employing any un-
popular means, such. for instance, as boycotting or
lawsuits. The Bdrsenvcrein has succeeded in
inducing the givers of discounts (the publishers) to
agree to a rate not to be exceeded ; it has made it
impossible for the bookseller to offer publicly dis-
counts in excess of those laid down by the Borsen-
verein—discounts which may not be advertised, but
are simply to be deducted when customers pay cash.

2. The Bot-senverein has succeeded in codifying
all trade usages, and has formed a sort of court of
arbitration to altogether relieve its members from
ever going to law for differences among them-

3. With regard to the authors, the Borsenverein
has made great efforts to come to some understand-
ing with the different Schriftsteller-Vereine
(Authors’ Unions), and, although they have
been in consultation for some time, so far no
definite arrangement has been made, except that,
pending some such understanding, the B'drsen-
verein has drawn up a number of regulations
which are, in the mean time, generally observed.
(These regulations are embodied in a pamphlet
entitled ‘ Verlagsordnung fiir den Deutschen Buch-
handel,’ which contains the definitions of literary
property, its value, position of author towards pub-
lisher and vice ’IIE‘I'Sd, mutual liabilities, duties, and
general rules to be observed.)

I am sure I wish you every success in your effort
for the interest of the community at large, and if I
can do anything to help the movement, I shall be
glad to do so. F. A. BROCKHAUS.


IN the notice of this author given in the
‘ Dictionary of National Biography ’ the writer
states that she was “ born of Quaker parentage
at Chichester about 1778.”

Mrs. Hack was the eldest daughter of John
and Maria (Done) Barton, of Carlisle, and was
born there on November 16th, 1777. (There is
a double entry, and October 15th is also given
in the register. Her own and her mother’s
names are given as Mary, which is incorrect.)
Her brother, Bernard Barton, the Quaker poet
and friend of Charles Lamb, was some five
years her junior, and she was his first teacher.

Their grandfather, Bernard Barton, of Ive
Gill, near Carlisle, was a man of some mecha-
nical genius, and invented a machine used in
calico printing, which gained him a medal from
the Royal Society. Their father, John Barton,
had literary tastes, and says, “I perused a Locke,
Addison, or Pope with delight, and sat down to
my ledger with a sort of disgust.” A lively de-
scription of his portrait, painted in 1774, is given
in a letter from Bernard Barton to the Rev.
C. B. Tayler. (‘Selcctions from the Poems
and Letters,’ London, 1849, p. 1, published by
Mrs. Fitzgerald.) He is represented with
Locke open upon his knee, a German flute upon
the table, and a score from Handel leaning
against Akenside’s ‘Pleasures of the Imagina-
tion.’ (This was before he became a Quaker.)
Behind him are shelves filled with books of a
mathematical or philosophical nature.


jects taught within the university, eith r by
admitting them to the ordinary classes, or by
instituting separate classes for their instruction.”
It was thus left to each University Court and
Senate to determine whether women were to
be admitted to instruction at all, Whether they
were to be taught in mixed classes or by them-
selves, and in what faculties they were to receive

The universities did not come to uniform reso-
lutions. The Glasgow University resolved on
separate education. It had become possessed
of a college which was set apart for women
alone, and it determined to confine the univer-
sity instruction of women to this college. The
universities of Edinburgh and Aberdeen threw
open their Arts classes. St. Andrews, less
trammelled by difficulties, offered admission to
all its classes, those of Theology and Medicine
as well as those of Arts; but the advantage is
not so great as it may seem, because there are
only a few medical classes as yet in operation.

In looking forward to the education of women
within the universities the question which
bulked most prominently in the minds of those
who took an active part in the movement was ;
“Would the women become merely amateur
students or would they enter on the courses
requisite for graduation 2 "

In the Scottish universities any one may
become a student. He does not require to pass
any examination. But his classes in this case
do not qualify for graduation. If he wishes to
graduate, he must pass a preliminary examina-
tion in (1) English, (2) Latin or Greek,
(3) mathematics, (4) one of the following : Latin
or Greek (if not already taken), French,
German, Italian, dynamics. A doubt existed
whether the women would pass such an exami-
nation. The facts of the case are these.

In Aberdeen University there are eleven



SUCH is the attractive heading of an article in
the current number of the Cornhill Magazine,
containing a little collection of letters, several of
which are worth printing. All are more or less
interesting, but much of the interest is lost or
obscured by imperfect editing. Ten of the total
of fifteen were addressed to the family of Randal
Norris, of Whom Lamb said, “ He was my friend
.and my father’s friend all the life I can remem-
ber.”* The date of his death is given here as
1826, instead of 1827. Again, the Lambs are
said to have visited Paris in 1825, instead of in
1822—an error which works much confusion in
the attempted placing of undated letters. One
of Charles’s, conjecturally dated “ 1825,” clearly
belongs to 1822, and it seems to be inaccurately
transcribed. The verses it contains are evi-
dently not Lamb’s own, but something of
Frere’s or Byron’s quoted from memory. I am
away from books and unable to refer. A charm-
ing letter of Mary Lamb to Miss Norris, written
from “Hastings, June 18,” is put down as
“ posterior to 1823,” whereas, all but certainly,
it belongs to that year. “ \Ve eat turbot,”
writes Miss Lamb,

“and drink smuggled Hollands; and we walk up
hill and down hill all day long. In the littleintervals
of rest that we allow ourselves I teach Miss James
French; she picked up a few words during her
foreign tour with us ...... Yesterday evening we
found out by chance the most beautiful view I ever
saw. It is called ‘ The Lovers‘ Seat.’ ”

In a published letter to Barton of July 10th,
1823, Lamb says he has just returned from
Hastings ; and in one written to Hood later in

* The letter in which this occurs was addressed to H.
Crabb Robinson, January 20th, 1827. It is not generally
known that (having altered names, Sac.) Lamb contributed

it to ‘ Hone‘s Table-Book ' for the same year under the title
of ‘ A Death-bed ' (i. 42.3). ,


1-. ‘-—~ C, n
ML-{L-qubhflw 0w 11/}.l39é


the same year he mentions the Lovers’ Seat.*
These allusions show pretty clearly that Mary’s
letter could have been written only in 1823. It
gives an interesting account of an unintended
exploration of the neighbourhood of Tunbridge
Wells, which occupied nine days of their pro-
gress by coach to Hastings. They saw all the
lions—Knole and Penshurst, Frant and the
Rocks ; and Charles succeed ed in losing his way
one day by the aid of Miss Norris’s guide-book
map. Mary was “much pleased with Knole,
and still more with Penshurst”; and we can
imagine that Charles shared his sister’s enjoy-
ment in the same proportion, and that he
remembered his visit to Penshurst when, within
a few days of his death, he read Phillips’s
account of Sydney. I do not think that hitherto
it has been known that, after the Paris experi—
ence, Miss Lamb was accustomed when she left
home to take a nurse with her. Miss James,
as appears by another letter, was the same
nurse who attended her in the later years of her
life, and probably from time to time in the
intervening period.

In 1833 Lamb writes to Mrs. Norris with a
gift of some of his books, but it is unnecessary
to suppose, with the editor of these letters, that
the Norris family had then expressed, “per-
haps for the first time in all these years, a desire
to see some of his literary productions.” No-
thing could well be more improbable. A post-
script is interesting as showing that Lamb pos-
sessed a copy of the American edition of his and
his sister’s ‘ Poetry for Children ’2—

“ The first volume printed here [‘Poetry for

Children ’] (sic in Cornhill) is not to be had for love
or money, not even an American edition of it, and
the second volume, American also, to suit with it.
It is much the same as the London one.”
This is not very clear, but I suppose it must
refer to the ‘ Poetry for Children,’ seeing that
no other of the Lambs’ books disappeared.
Mrs. Tween (Jane Norris) certainly possessed
a copy of the London edition, the gift, she be-
lieved, of Mary Lamb in her (Mrs. Tween’s)
childhood, and had no copy of the American
reprint (which was in one volume). In 1827
Lamb told Barton he had neglected to keep a
copy, and that “ it was not to be had for love
or money,” saying nothing of any reprint.

The editor of these letters assumes, silently,
that “ Mr. Norris of the Bluecoat School”
and “Mr. Norris, sub-treasurer to the Inner
Temple,” were one and the same. Hitherto
Lamb’s editors and biographers have doubted
this identity, especially as Mrs. Tween was un-
aware of her father having ever been connected
with Christ’s Hospital. My own impression is
that the two were one, and the impression is
founded on the following sentences, which occur
near the beginning of the essay ‘Christ‘s Hos-
pital Five-and-Thirty Years Ago ’ :—

“ His [ “ L.’s”] friends lived in town, and were

near at hand; and he had the privilege of going
to see them almost as often as he wished, through
some invidious distinction, which was denied to us.
The present wart/2y sub-treasurer to the Inner
Temple can 9; plain how that happened.”
This would seem to imply that Mr. Norris had
held some oflice at Christ’s, which, later, he
exchanged for one at the Temple. He was still
at Christ’s in 1796, but Mrs. Tween could not
have been born much, if at all, before 1815.

None of the Lambs’ biographers gives the date
of Miss Lamb’s removal from Edmonton t0 the
house in Regent’s Park in which she died in
1847. If one may depend on the heading——
“ [41, Alpha Road, Regent’s Park] Christmas
Day [1841] ”—of one of Miss Lamb’s letters
now first printed, the missing date is supplied.
“ I long,” she writes,

“ to shew you what a nice snug place I have got
into, in the midst of a pleasant little garden. I
have aroom for myself and my old books on the


* This is the delightful letter about the New River, where
Hope sits every day speculating on traditionary gudgeons.
&c., a passage which Hood used as a motto to his 'Walton


ground-floor, and a little bedroom up two pairs of
stairs../...An omnibus from the Bell and Crown in
Holborn would [bring] you to our door in [a]
quarter of an hour "‘ ...... I am in the midst of many
old friends—Mr. and Mrs. Kenney, Mr. and Mrs.
Hood, Barron Field, and his brother Frank, and
their wives, &c., all within a. short walk.”

Nor was the proximity of friends the only
advantage which accrued to the poor old lady
by her change of residence. It is the single
one put forward hitherto, but there was another
at least equally important. It pains as well
as pleases one to read a letter (undated) which
has lately come into my possession, written by
Mr. Procter (“Barry Cornwall”) to Mrs. Tal~
fourd. It can refer only to Miss Lamb :—

“ Pray read and give the enclosed letter to your
husband, and I pray you also to use your good
influence in the matter ...... The Serjeant is over-
worked ...... but afmv minutes will be sufficient to
determine, and all the rest may be managed by
others. I cannot tell you how sorry I was to see this
poor old soul, with her excellent heart and fine
intellect, shut up in a little, low, ill-ventilated room,
amongst ...... I am sure she may have ten times the
comfort for the same expense elsewhere. ill. a week
...... ought to produce great comforts. Besides, she
would see her friends now and then, which would
be a great boon to her, I am sure.”

It is but fair to the memory of Miss Lamb’s
friends to assume that they were not entirely
to blame for her seven years’ endurance of dis-
comfort and worse. At first, at all events, after
her brother’s death she seems to have resisted
kindly endeavours to remove her from Edmon-
ton and its painful associations, but we gather
from this letter that the endeavours had for
a long period been relaxed. The letter is
dated “June 22,” and we now learn that some
time—let us hope, some months—before Christ-
mas, the removal was efl‘ected. In July, 1843,
Miss Lamb (who was then seventy-eight) was
deeply affected by reading in the newspapers an
announcement of the death of her oldest friend,
Mrs. Norris. Although unable herself to write
to the bereaved daughters, she proposed to visit
them, and Miss James (then, as twenty years
before, her attendant) wrote for hep—adding,
however, a postscript on her own account :
“Pray, don’t invite her to come down and see

A new letter to Barron Field, then at Sydney,
is printed here. Its date is August 20th, 1820.
“ We received,” writes Lamb, .
“ your Australian First Fruits, of which I shall say
nothing here, but refer you to *“**of the Examiner,
who speaks our mindon all public subjects."

It seems to have escaped the notice of the
editor of these letters that Lamb, about this
time, was accustomed to sign his contributions
to the Examiner with the four stars, for he
suggests that they mean “Hunt.” Lamb’s
review of Field’s slim, privately printed volume
of verses appeared in the Examiner for January
16th, 1820, and has been reprinted. He goes
on to tell Field that not only himself, but Cole-
ridge, ‘Vordsworth, and Lloyd “were hugely
taken with your ‘Kangaroo.’ ” In the review
Lamb quoted the whole of the poem, remarking
that it “relished of the graceful hyperbole of
our elder writers. \Ve can conceive it to have
been written by Andrew Marvell, supposing
him to have been banished to Botany Bay.”
few couplets from a poem so appreciated may be
welcome :—

She had made the squirrel fragile ;
She had made the bounding hart;
But a third so strong and agile
Was beyond c'en Nature’s art.

So she join’d the former two

In thee, Kangaroo!

a- * *-
Thy fore-half, it would appear.

Had belong'd to “ some small deer."
Such as liveth in a tree;

By thy hinder, thou should'st be

A large animal of chase,

Bounding o'er the forests space—
Join’d by some divine mistake

None but Nature‘s hand can make—
Nature, in her wisdom's play,

On Creation’s holiday !



* So printed, but as the distance is quite three miles Miss
Lamb must have written, or intended to write, “ three-
quarters of an hour."


 N° 3342, Nov. 14391

who evidently considered the “ supplementary
scene” (closmg the fourth act, pp. 57—8), as
Lamb called it, a poor substitute.
Scene changes to Woodvil Hall.
John reading a letter by scraps—A Servant attending.

“ An event beyond the possible reach of foresight. ’Tis
thought the deep disgrace of supposed treachery in you
o’ercame him. His heart brake. You will acquit yourself
of worse crimes than indiscretion. My remorse must end
with life.

‘,' Your quondam companion and penitent for the wrong
he has done ye, GRAY.

“ Postscript. The old man being unhappily removed, the
youiégyman’s advancement henceforth will find no impedi-
men .’

John. Impediment indeed there now is none:
For all has happened that my soul presag’d.
\Vhat hinders. but I enter in forthwith
And take possession of my crowned state ?
For thy advancement, Woodvil, is no less;
To be a King, a King.
I hear the shoutings of the under—world,
I hear the unlawful accents of their mirth,
The fiends do shout and clap their hands for joy,
That Woodvil is proclaim’d the Prince of Hell.
They place a burning crown upon my head,
I hear it hissing now, [Puts his hand to hisforoheail.
And feel the snakes about In mortal brain.

[Sinks in a swoon, is caught in the arms of the servant.

Scene, a Courtyard before Woodvil Hall.
Sandford. Margaret (as just arrived from a journey).
filarg. Can I see him to-night ?
Sandford. I think ye had better stay till the morning : he
will be more calm.
Marg. You say he gets no sleep ?
Sandford. He hath not slept since Sir Walter died. I have
sat up with him these two nights. Francis takes my place
to-night— O l Mistress Margaret, are not the witch‘s
words come true—“ All that we feared and worse " ? Go in
and change your garments. you have travelled hard and
’want rest. '
Marg. I will go to bed. You will promise I shall see him
in the morning.
Sandfard. You will sleep in your old chamber ?
Marg. The Tapestry room : yes. Pray get me a light. A
good night to us all.
Sandford. Amen, say I.
Scene. The Servants’ Hall.
. Daniel, Peter, and Robert.
Daniel. Are we all of one mind, fellows ? He that lov’d
his old master, speak. Shall we quit his son’s service for a
better ? Is it aye, or no ?
Peter. For my part, I am afraid to go to bed to-night.
Robert. For certain, young Master's indiscretion was that
which broke his heart.
Peter. Who sits up with him to-night ?
Robert. Francis.
Peter. Lord ! what a conscience he must have, that he
cannot sleep alone.
Robert. They say he is troubled with the Night-mare.
Daniel. Here he comes, let us go away as fast as we can.
[They run out.
Enter John 'Woocivil and Francis.
John. I lay me down to get a little sleep,
And just when I began to close my eyes,
My eyes heavy to sleep. it comes.
Francis. What comes ?
John. I can remember when a child the maids"
Would place me on their lap, as they undrest me,
As silly women use, and tell me stories
Of Witches—Make me read ‘ Glanvil on \Vitchcraft,’
And in conclusion show me in the Bible.
The old Family Bible with the pictures in it,
The ’graving of the IVitch raising up Samuel,
IVhich so possest my fancy, being a child,
That nightly in my dreams an old Hag came
And sat upon my pillow.
I am relapsinginto infancy,—
And shortly I shall dots—for would you think it P
The Hag is come again. Spite of my manhood,
The ~Wit-oh is strong upon me every night.
[lVal/cs to and fro, then as if recollect-[rig something.
What said'st thou, Francis, as I stood in the passage ?
Something of a Father :
The word is ringing in my ears now—
Francis. I remember, one of the servants, Sir. would pass
a few days with his father at Leicester. The poor old man
lies on his death-bed, and has exprest a desire to see his son
before he dies. But none cared to break the matter to you.
John. Send the man here. [Francis goes out.
My very servants shun my company.
I held my purse to a beggar yesterday
Who lay and hask’d his sores in the hot sun,
And the gaunt pauper did refuse my alms.

Francis returns with Robert.
John. Come hither, Robert. What is the poor man ailing ?
Robert. Please your honour, I fear he has partly perish‘d
for want of physio. His means are small, and he kept his
illness a secret to me not to put me to expenses.
John. Good son, he weeps for his father.
Go take the swiftest horse in my stables,
Take Lightfoot. or Eclipse—no, Eclipse is lame,
Take Lightfoot then, or Princessn‘
Ride hard all night to Leicester

[They go in.


* “ From my childhood I was extremely inquisitive
about witches and witch-stories. My maid, and more
legendary aunt. supplied me with good store. But I shall
mention the accident which directed my curiosity originally
into this channel. In my father's book»closet the history of
the Bible, by Stackhouse, occupied a. distinguished station.
...... There was a picture, too, [in it] of the Witch raising up
Samuel, which I wish I had never seen ...... It was he [Stack-
house] who dressed up for me a hag that nightly sate upon
my pillow—a sure bedfellow when my aunt or my maid was
far from me."—‘ The Essays of Elia,’ “Witches, and other
Night Fears."

T Lamb puts his pen through these two lines, and writes
across them " miserable bad."



And give him money, money, Francis——

The old man must have medicines, cordials,

And broth to keep him warm, and careful nurses.
He must not die for lack of tendance, Robert.

Robert. God bless your honour for your kindness to my
poor father.

John. Pray, now make haste.

John. Go get some firewood, Francis,
And get my supper ready.
The night is bitter cold.
They in their graves feel nothing of the cold,
Or if they do, how (lull a cold—
All clayey, clayey. Ah God! who waits below ?
Come up, come quick. I saw a fearful sight.

Francis returns in haste with wood.

John. There are such things as spirits, deny itwho may.
Is it you. Francis ? Heap the wood on thick,
\Ve two shall sup together, sup all night,
Carouse, drink drunk, and tell the merriest tales—
Tell for a wager, who tells merriest—
But I am very weak. 0 tears, tears, tears,
I feel your just rebuke. [Coos out.

Scene changes to a bed-room. John sitting alone ; a lamp
burning by him.

“ Infinite torments for finite offences.” I will neverbelieve
it. How divines can reconcile this monstrous tenet with
the spirit of their Theology! They have palpably failed
in the proof, for to put the question thus 1—” he being
infinite—have a care. W'oodvil, the latitude of doubting suits
not with the humility of thy condition. What good men
have believed, may be true, and what they profess to find\
set down clearly in their scriptures, must have probability
in its defence.* Touching that other question the Casuists
with one consent have pronounced the sober man account-
able for the deeds by him in a state of drunkenness com-
mitted, because tho’ the action indeed be such as he, sober,
would never have committed, yet the drunkenness being an
act of the will, by a moral fiction, the issues are accounted
voluntary also. I lose my sleep in attending to these intri-
cacies of the schoolmen. I lay till daybreak the other morn-
ing endeavouring to draw a line of distinction between sin
of direct malice and sin of malice indirect, or imputable
only by the sequence. My brain is overwrought by these
labours, and my faculties will shortly decline into impotence.

[Throws himself on a bed.
End of the Fourth Act.

In the fifth act of the printed play (p. 60)
we have Simply “ Margaret enters.” In the
MS. Sandford prepares lllS master for her
advent, and announces her thus 2——

Sandforll. Wilt please you to see company to—day, Sir ?
John. Who thinks me worth the visiting ?
Sandforii. One that travell'd hard last night to see
She waits to know your pleasure.
John. A lady too I pray send her to me—

Some curiosity, I suppose.
[Sandfard goes out and returns with illargaret.

Illargaret. Woodvillf

John. Comes Margaret here, &c.
When, a page further on, John has declared to
Margaret that

This earth holds not alive so poor a thing as I am—

I was not always thus,
the MS. went on (but the passage is struck out
as “ bad ”) :—

You must bear with me, Margaret, as a child,

For I am weak as tender Infancy

And cannot hear rebuke——

VVould'st think it, Love!

They hoot and spit upon me as I pass

In the public streets : one shows me to his neighbour,

Who shakes his head and turns away with horror—

I was not always thus—

Marg. Thou noble nature, 850.

The next scene—the last (pp. 62—5)—is much
out about. The long speech of Margaret begin-


You may chance to come in
[Robert goes out.

[Francis goes out.

To give you in your stead a better self,

and J ohn’s reply (both printed at p. 63), are
struck out, an( “ Nimis ” written by Lamb’s pen
in large characters in the margin ; but after that
all goes on in harmony with the print, to the

end :—
It seem’d the guilt of blood was passing from me
Even in the act and agony of tears
And all my sins forgiven.

At this point in the MS. Simon arrives :—

[A noise is heard as ofone without, clamorous to some in.
Marg. 'Tis your brother Simon, John.

Enter Simon, with his sword in a menacing posture. John
staggers towards him and falls at his feet, Margaret stand-
ing over him.

Simon. Is this the man I came so far to see—
The perfect Cavalier, the finish’d courtier
\Vhom Ladies lov’d, the gallant curled Woodvil,
\Vhom brave men fear’d, the valiant, lighting Woodvil,
The haughty higli—ambitioued Parricide—

The same that sold his father's secret in his cups,
And held it but an after-dinner's trick ?

So humble and in tears, a crestfallen penitent,
And crawling at a younger brother's feet !

The sinews of my [stifl] revenge grow slack.

My brother, speak to me, my brother John.
(Aside) Now this is better than the beastly deed
Which I did meditate.

* Lamb has crossed out this passage from “ Infinite tor-
ments,” and written at “ Touching" “ begin here.”
T ”Woodvil l ” and some illegible words struck out, and


nothing substituted.


John (rising and resuming his old dignity). You come to
take my life, I know it well,

You come to light with me—
[Laying his hand upon his sword'..

This arm was busy on the (lay of Naseby :

”,l‘is paralytic now, and knows no use of weapons.

The luck is yours, Sir. [Surrenders his sword.
Simon. My errand is of peace :

A dying father's blessing and last prayers

For his misguided son.

Sir Walter sends it with his parting breath.

He bade me with my brother live in peace,

He bade me fall upon his neck and weep,

(As I now do) and love my brother John ;

For we are only left in the wide world

The poor survivors of the Woodvil name. [They embrace.
Simon. And Margaret here shall witness our atone—

(For Margaret still hath followed all your fortunes),
And she shall dry thy tears and teach thee pray.
So we '11 together seek some foreign land,
Where our sad story, John, shall never reach.