The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1869-10-12
Charles Lamb in the Temple.

The following charming and Characteristic
letter of Mary Lamb to o child cannot fail
to interest all who cherish the memory of
Charles Lamb and his sister. The ''little
Barbara" afterwards Mrs Edwards) to whom
1T was addressed was the youngest sister of
Matilda Betham, a poetess whom Southey
valued, and of Sir William Betham, the we'll
known genealogist and antiquary-
November 2, 1S14.--To Miss Barbara Bet
ham:-It is very long since have met with
such an agreeable surprise as the sight of
your letter, my kind young friend, afforded
me. Such n nice letter as it is too. And
what pretty hand you write. 1 congratulate
you on this attainment with great pleasure,
because l have so often felt the disadvantage
of my own wretched handwriting.
You wish for London news. I rely upon
your sister Ann for gratifying you in this
respect, yet L have been endeavoring to re-
collect whom you might have seen here, and
what may have happened to them since, and
this effort has only brought the image of
little Barbara Betham, unconnected with any
other person, so strongly before my eyes that
/ seem as if l had no other subject to write
upon. Now think L see you with your feet
propped upon the fender, your two hands
spread out upon your knees-an attitude you
always chose when we were in familiar con-
fdential conversation ogether-telling me
| long stories of your own home, where now
you say you are 'moping on with the same
thing every day. and which then presented
nothing but pleasant recouections to your
mind How well l remember your quiet
steady face bent over your book. One day.
conscience-struck at having wasted so
much of your precious time in readings and
feeling yourself, as you prettily said, quite
useless to me, you went to my drawers and
hunted out some unhemmed pocket-hand-
kerchiefs and by no means could prevail
upon you to resume your story books till you
had hemmed them all. l remember, too,
your teaching my little maid to read-your
sitting with her whole evening to console
her for the death of her sister; and that she
in her turn endeavored to become a comfort
to YOU the next evening when you wept at
the sight of Mrs. Holecroft from whose
school you had recently eloped because you
were not partial to sitting in the stocks.
Those tears, and few you once dropped
when my brother teased you about your sup
posed fondness for apple dumplings, were the
only interruptions to the calm contentedness
of your unclouded brow. We still remain the
same as you left u.s. neither better nor wiser,
nor perceptibly older, but three years must
have made great alteration in you. How
very much, dear Barbara, should like to see
you!
We still live in Temple lane but ] am now
sitting in a room you never saw; soon after
you left us we were distressed by the cries of
a cat, which seemed to proceed from the gar
rets adjoining to ours, and only separated
from ours by the locked door on the farther
} side of my brothers bedroom, which you
know was the little room at the top of the
7 kitchen stairs We had the lock forced and
let poor puss out from behind panel of the
wainscot, and she lived with us from that
time for we were in gratitude bound to keep
CHI ho1 i,tp fN
tenanted; unowned rooms, and by degrees
we have taken possession Of these unclaimed
: apartments-tirst putting up lines to dry our
clothes, then moving my brothers bed into
one of these, more commOdious than his own
room. And last winter, my brother being
unable to pursue q work he had begun,
owing to the kind interruptions
of friends who were more al
leisure than himself, persuaded him that he
! might write at his case in one of these rooms
as he could not then hear the door-knocl, OF
hear himself denied to be at home, which was
sure to make him call out and convict the
poor maid in a fib. Here, L said he might
t be almost really not at home. SO put in al
3 old CRATE, and made him a fire in the largest
Y of these garrets, and carried in one table anC
t one chair, and bid him write away, and con
slider himself as much alone as if he were il
: some lodging on the midst of salisbury Plain
a or any other wide unfrequented place where
@ he could expect few visitors to break in upoI
Y his solitude. left him quite delighted will
y his new acquisition, but in a few hours hC
!. came down with a sadly dismal face II,
G could do nothing, lie said with those bar,
, walls before his eyes. He could not write il
: that dull unfinished prison.
t The next day, before he came home from
S his Office, 1 had gathered up various bits O.
4 old carpeting to cover the floor; and, to
| little break the blank look of the bare walls
: hung up few old prints that used to orna
: ment the kitchen, and after dinner, will
: great boast of what an improvement hao
b. made l took Charles once more into his ney
$ study. week of busy labors followed il
Y which think you would not have dislike
;, to have been our assistant. My brother ant
:. L almost covered the walls with prints, 70
n which purpose he cut out every print iron
e every book in his old library, coming in ever
1 now and then to ask my leave to strip fres
: poor author-which he might not do, yo
l. know, without my permission, as / au
n elder sister. There was such pasting, sucl
/. consultation where their portraits, an
D. where series of pictures from Ovid, Milton
e and Shakespeare would show TO most adyar
5, tage, and in what obscure corner authors q
1t humber note might be allowed to tell thei
n stories All the books gave up their storie
f. but one-a translation from Ariosto-a del
is ciOus set of -four md twenty prints, and fo
le which had marked out conspicuous place
;" when 10! we found ut the moment the scissor
ee were going to work that part Of the poer
ly was printed at the back of every picture
at What a cruel disappointment To conclud
le this long story about nothing, the poor de!
E. pissed garret is now called the print-roon