Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1876-12-21
TERpLE BAR AND CHAS. LAMB.

But we pause In the almost I'M
possible task Of endeavoring to
bring to mind the names of the
authors, wits, and poets, who have
most contributed to sustain, and, it
may be added, popularize the fame
of temple Bar, to ask ourselves
the question who Of them it is,
after all, that has most endeared its
memory to us? 1t has not been
Dryden, or yet Pope. We find but
scarce allusion to it in the writings
Of Swift, Steele, or Addison. Nei-
ther Sterne, the most pathetic, nor
Smollet the wittiest of writer's, nor
Congreye the most courtly of dra-
matists, nor Garth, the poetical
physician, has given US pleasant
recollection Of its presence in any
thing that he has penned. Dr.
johnson has left us plenty Of
glimpses of it Through the diary OF
his familiar Boswell, out not Of a
kind that makes us yearn toward
it with much of kindly concern,
We naturally love TO think of the
old gateway in connection with
genial Oliver Goldsmith and hi;
thoughtless vanity; Of how he
scores of times, in that exquisite
suit of Tyrian bloom, satin grain,
and dark blue silk breeches, mus
have walked gaily by it to yex the
kindly soul of REYNOLDS at the stu
dio in Leicester Fields by his pre-.
posterous extravaganza. We have
Burke in our eye, and Garrick; The
poets Gay and Thomson, and the
clever artist who drew the character
of Squire Weston; Gibbon has
8trolled past the grimy walls
and Richard Savage and Rich
ardson, hard working printer
aud admirable novelist; Rogers
the banker-pOet; poor, nervous
unstrung Coyper, in the days o
his terrible maladyi Sheridan, OF
his way to the sponging-house
Samuel Taylor Coleridge rumina
ting, mayhap, over the terribl,
seductions of his unfortunate pas
sion; all these excellent and Wor
thy representatives Of England
| literature have at some time o,
other halted at the very spot where
we ourselves had stood in our jour
neyiDgs through London contem
lplating the mud-be spattered fec,
and rueful outline Of the much
malirneIl. oft-abused. but patient
looking memorial But these gerc
not the men who maG4ee us feel th'
| ktndlier toward the old Bar, be
cause thay SO often passed and
strayed within its shadow. Who
then, has it been that has kept us
as we may say, SO firmly attached
to the tottering, inconvenient mon
ument, in spite Of the fact that
each time we passed under one o
its arches we felt a terrible misgiv,
ing lest the calcined, age-worr
stones supporting it should tremblO
with long-suiIered weakness, fall tt
the ground, and bury us beneath
the ruins? Who else should i
have been but Charles Lamb j? WhC
but Charles Lamb, most loving o
men, tenderest of poets, wittieSt o
writers, the most truly delightful
and charming Of English essayists
who almost worshiped the GROUND
which Temple Bar has so lon,
blocked with its presence, an,
adored it as if it had been support
ing the most magnificent and beau
tiful temple ever erected by tn
genius Of man?
Charles Lamb was born an,
passed the first seven years of hi
life within a stones throw of TEN
pie Bar, a spot which he has char
acterized as"the most elegant il
, the metropolis;" and the delight
ful Essays of Ella" were penne
almost within view of its venerabl
Venitan parlor Daily he mus
have trudged patiently with tina
. dear sister whom he tended an
. loved so well, through the old gatl
/. way, bent on collecting the lit
. store for the morrow's meal, an