LETTER247

letter247

charleslambtothomasmanning

may28,1819.

mydearm.,—iwanttoknowhowyourbrotheris,ifyouhaveheardlately.iwanttoknowaboutyou.iwishyouwerenearer.howaremycousins,thegladmansofwheathamstead,andfarmerbruton?mrs.brutonisagloriouswoman.

hail,mackerayend—

thisisafragmentofablankversepoemwhichioncemeditated,butgotnofurther.thee.i.h.hasbeenthrownintoaquandarybythestrangephenomenonofpoortommybye,whomihaveknownmanandmad-mantwenty-sevenyears,hebeingelderherethanmyselfbynineyearsandmore.hewasalwaysapleasant,gossiping,half-headed,muzzy,dozing,dreaming,walk-about,inoffensivechap;alittletoofondofthecreature—whoisn'tattimes?buttommyhadnotbrainstoworkoffanover-night'ssurfeitbyteno'clocknextmorning,andunfortunately,inhewanderedtheothermorningdrunkwithlastnight,andwithasuperfoetationofdrinktakeninsincehesetoutfrombed.hecameeringunderhisdoubleburthen,liketreesinjava,bearingatonceblossom,fruit,andfallingfruit,asihaveheardyouorsomeothertravellertell,withhisfaceliterallyasblueasthebluestfirmament;somewretchedcalicothathehadmoppedhispooroozyfrontwithhadrenderedupitsnativedye,andthedevilabitwouldheconsenttowashit,butsworeitwascharacteristic,forhewasgoingtothesaleofindigo,andsetupalaughwhichididnotthinkthelungsofmortalmanwerecompetentto.itwaslikeathousandpeoplelaughing,orthegoblinpage.heimaginedafterwardsthatthewholeofficehadbeenlaughingathim,sostrangedidhisownsoundsstrikeuponhis_non_sensorium.buttommyhaslaughedhislastlaugh,andawokethenextdaytofindhimselfreducedfromanabusedincomeof£600perannumtoone-sixthofthesum,afterthirty-sixyears'tolerablygoodservice.thequalityofmercywasnotstrainedinhisbehalf;thegentledewsdroptnotonhimfromheaven.itjustcameacrossmethatiwaswritingtocanton.howisball?"mr.b.isap——."willyoudropinto-morrownight?fannykellyiscoming,ifshedoesnotcheatus.mrs.goldiswell,butproves"uncoined,"astheloversaboutwheathampsteadwouldsay.

ohardheartedburrell

withteethlikeasquirrel—

ihavenothadsuchaquiethalfhourtositdowntoaquietletterformanyyears.ihavenotbeeninterruptedabovefourtimes.iwrotealettertheotherdayinalternatelines,blackinkandred,andyoucannotthinkhowitchilledtheflowofideas.nextmondayiswhit-monday.whatareflection!twelveyearsago,andishouldhavekeptthatandthefollowingholidayinthefieldsa-maying.allofthoseprettypastoraldelightsareover.thisdead,everlastingdeaddesk—howitweighsthespiritofagentlemandown!thisdeadwoodofthedeskinsteadofyourlivingtrees!butthen,again,ihatethejoskins,anameforhertfordshirebumpkins.eachstateoflifehasitsinconvenience;butthen,again,minehasmorethanone.notthatirepine,orgrudge,ormurmuratmydestiny.ihavemeatanddrink,anddecentapparel;ishall,atleast,whenigetanewhat.

ared-hairedmanhasjustinterruptedme.hehasbrokethecurrentofmythoughts.ihaven'tawordtoadd.idon'tknowwhyisendthisletter,butihavehadahankeringtohearaboutyousomedays.perhapsitwillgooff,beforeyourreplycomes.ifitdon't,iassureyounoletterwaseverwelcomerfromyou,fromparisormacao.c.lamb.

[atthebeginningofthisletterisanunprintedpassagesayingthatcharleslloydandhiswifeareinlondonandthatsuchproximityisnottoocomfortable."wouldyouliketoseehim?"or"isn'titbettertoleanoverastileinasortofcarelesseasyhalfastronomicalpositioneyeingtheblueexpanse?"

manning,whohadnowsettledinengland,butinretirement,waslivinginhertfordshire,attotteridge.thegladmansandbrutonsarementionedintheeliaessay"mackeryendinhertfordshire":—

"theoldestthingirememberismackeryend;ormackarelend,asitisspelt,perhapsmoreproperly,insomeoldmapsofhertfordshire;afarm-house,—delightfullysituatedwithinagentlewalkfromwheathampstead.icanjustrememberhavingbeenthere,onavisittoagreat-aunt,wheniwasachild,underthecareofbridget;who,asihavesaid,isolderthanmyselfbysometenyears.iwishthaticouldthrowintoaheaptheremainderofourjointexistences,thatwemightsharetheminequaldivision.butthatisimpossible.thehousewasatthattimeintheoccupationofasubstantialyeoman,whohadmarriedmygrandmother'ssister.hisnamewasgladman.mygrandmotherwasabruton,marriedtoafield.thegladmansandthebrutonsarestillflourishinginthatpartofthecountry,butthefieldsarealmostextinct."

thegoblinpageisinscott'slayofthelastminstrel.

"mrs.goldiswell"—néefannyburrell.

"thisdeadwoodofthedesk."lambusedthisfiguremorethanonce,inhislettersandelsewhere.intheeliaessay"thesuperannuatedman"hesays:"ihadgrowntomydesk,asitwere;andthewoodhadenteredintomysoul."]