THE WORKS OF CHARLES LAMB
In Four Volumes
VOL. IV.
A New Edition
CONTENTS.
ROSAMUND GRAY, ESSAYS, ETC.
ROSAMUND GRAY
ESSAYS:--
RECOLLECTIONS OF CHRIST'S HOSPITAL
ON THE TRAGEDIES OF SHAKSPEARE, CONSIDERED WITH REFERENCE TO THEIR
FITNESS FOR STAGE-REPRESENTATION
CHARACTERS OF DRAMATIC WRITERS, CONTEMPORARY WITH SHAKSPEARE
SPECIMENS FROM THE WRITINGS OF FULLER, THE CHURCH HISTORIAN
ON THE GENIUS AND CHARACTER OF HOGARTH; WITH SOME REMARKS ON A
PASSAGE IN THE WRITINGS OF THE LATE MR. BARRY
ON THE POETICAL WORKS OF GEORGE WITHER
LETTERS UNDER ASSUMED SIGNATURES, PUBLISHED IN "THE REFLECTOR":--
THE LONDONER
ON BURIAL SOCIETIES; AND THE CHARACTER OF AN UNDERTAKER
ON THE DANGER OF CONFOUNDING MORAL WITH PERSONAL DEFORMITY; WITH A
HINT TO THOSE WHO HAVE THE FRAMING OF ADVERTISEMENTS FOR
APPREHENDING OFFENDERS
ON THE INCONVENIENCES RESULTING FROM BEING HANGED
ON THE MELANCHOLY OF TAILORS
HOSPITA ON THE IMMODERATE INDULGENCE OF THE PLEASURES OF THE
PALATE
EDAX ON APPETITE
CURIOUS FRAGMENTS, EXTRACTED FROM A COMMONPLACE BOOK WHICH BELONGED
TO ROBERT BURTON, THE FAMOUS AUTHOR OF THE ANATOMY OF MELANCHOLY
MR. H----, A FARCE, IN TWO ACTS
* * * * *
POEMS.
[_Those marked with an asterisk are by the Author's Sister._]
HESTER
TO CHARLES LLOYD, AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR
THE THREE FRIENDS
TO A RIVER IN WHICH A CHILD WAS DROWNED
THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES
*HELEN
A VISION OF REPENTANCE
*DIALOGUE BETWEEN A MOTHER AND CHILD
QUEEN ORIANA'S DREAM
A BALLAD, NOTING THE DIFFERENCE OF RICH AND POOR, IN THE WAYS OF A
RICH NOBLE'S PALACE AND A POOR WORKHOUSE
HYPOCHONDRIACUS
A FAREWELL TO TOBACCO
_TO T. L. H., A CHILD_
BALLAD, FROM THE GERMAN
*DAVID IN THE CAVE OF ADULLAM
*SALOME
*LINES SUGGESTED BY A PICTURE OF TWO FEMALES, BY LIONARDO DA VINCI
*LINES ON THE SAME PICTURE BEING REMOVED TO MAKE PLACE FOR A PORTRAIT
OF A LADY BY TITIAN
*LINES ON THE CELEBRATED PICTURE BY LIONARDO DA VINCI, CALLED THE
VIRGIN OF THE ROCKS
*ON THE SAME
SONNETS:--
I. TO MISS KELLY
II. ON THE SIGHT OF SWANS IN KENSINGTON GARDEN.
III.
IV.
V.
VI. THE FAMILY NAME
VII.
VIII.
IX. TO JOHN LAMB, ESQ., OF THE SOUTH-SEA-HOUSE
X.
XI.
BLANK VERSE:--
CHILDHOOD
THE GRANDAME
THE SABBATH BELLS
FANCY EMPLOYED ON DIVINE SUBJECTS
COMPOSED AT MIDNIGHT
JOHN WOODVIL; A TRAGEDY
THE WITCH, A DRAMATIC SKETCH OP THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
* * * * *
ALBUM VERSES, WITH A FEW OTHERS.
IN THE AUTOGRAPH BOOK OF MRS. SERGEANT W----
TO DORA W----, ON BEING ASKED BY HER FATHER TO WRITE IN HER ALBUM
IN THE ALBUM OF A CLERGYMAN'S LADY
IN THE ALBUM OF EDITH S----
IN THE ALBUM OF ROTHA Q----
IN THE ALBUM OF CATHERINE ORKNEY
IN THE ALBUM OF LUCY BARTON
IN THE ALBUM OF MRS. JANE TOWERS
IN THE ALBUM OF MISS----
IN MY OWN ALBUM
MISCELLANEOUS:--
ANGEL HELP
ON AN INFANT DYING AS SOON AS BORN
THE CHRISTENING
THE YOUNG CATECHIST
TO A YOUNG FRIEND ON HER TWENTY-FIRST BIRTHDAY
SHE IS GOING
SONNETS:--
HARMONY IN UNLIKENESS
WRITTEN AT CAMBRIDGE
TO A CELEBRATED FEMALE PERFORMER IN THE "BLIND BOY"
WORK
LEISURE
TO SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ.
THE GYPSY'S MALISON
COMMENDATORY VERSES, ETC.:--
TO J. S. KNOWLES, ESQ., ON HIS TRAGEDY OF VIRGINIUS
TO THE AUTHOR OF POEMS PUBLISHED UNDER THE NAME OF BARRY CORNWALL
TO THE EDITOR OF THE "EVERY-DAY BOOK"
TO T. STOTHARD, ESQ., ON HIS ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE POEMS OF MR.
ROGERS
TO A FRIEND ON HIS MARRIAGE
"O LIFT WITH REVERENT HAND"
THE SELF-ENCHANTED
TO LOUISA M----, WHOM I USED TO CALL "MONKEY"
TRANSLATIONS FROM THE LATIN OF VINCENT BOURNE:--
THE BALLAD-SINGERS
TO DAVID COOK, OF THE PARISH OF ST. MARGARET'S, WESTMINSTER,
WATCHMAN
ON A SEPULCHRAL STATUE OF AN INFANT SLEEPING
EPITAPH ON A DOG
THE RIVAL BELLS
NEWTON'S PRINCIPIA
THE HOUSEKEEPER
ON A DEAF AND DUMB ARTIST
THE FEMALE ORATORS
PINDARIC ODE TO THE TREAD-MILL
GOING OR GONE
FREE THOUGHTS ON SEVERAL EMINENT COMPOSERS
THE WIFE'S TRIAL; OR, THE INTRUDING WIDOW. A DRAMATIC POEM
ROSAMUND GRAY, ESSAYS,
ETC.
TO
MARTIN CHARLES BURNEY, ESQ.
Forgive me, BURNEY, if to thee these late
And hasty products of a critic pen,
Thyself no common judge of books and men,
In feeling of thy worth I dedicate.
My _verse_ was offered to an older friend;
The humbler _prose_ has fallen to thy share:
Nor could I miss the occasion to declare,
What spoken in thy presence must offend--
That, set aside some few caprices wild,
Those humorous clouds that flit o'er brightest days,
In all my threadings of this worldly maze,
(And I have watched thee almost from a child),
Free from self-seeking, envy, low design,
I have not found a whiter soul than thine.
ROSAMUND GRAY.
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
It was noontide. The sun was very hot. An old gentlewoman sat
spinning in a little arbor at the door of her cottage. She was blind;
and her granddaughter was reading the Bible to her. The old lady had
just left her work, to attend to the story of Ruth.
"Orpah kissed her mother-in-law; but Ruth clave unto her." It was a
passage she could not let pass without a _comment_. The moral she
drew from it was not very _new_, to be sure. The girl had heard it a
hundred times before--and a hundred times more she could have heard
it, without suspecting it to be tedious. Rosamund loved her
grandmother.
The old lady loved Rosamund too; and she had reason for so doing.
Rosamund was to her at once a child and a servant. She had only _her_
left in the world. They two lived together.
They had once known better days. The story of Rosamund's parents,
their failure, their folly, and distresses, may be told another time.
Our tale hath grief enough in it.
It was now about a year and a half since old Margaret Gray had sold
off all her effects, to pay the debts of Rosamund's father--just
after the mother had died of a broken heart; for her husband had fled
his country to hide his shame in a foreign land. At that period the
old lady retired to a small cottage in the village of Widford in
Hertfordshire.
Rosamund, in her thirteenth year, was left destitute, without fortune
or friends: she went with her grandmother. In all this time she had
served her faithfully and lovingly.
Old Margaret Gray, when she first came into these parts, had eyes,
and could see. The neighbors said, they had been dimmed by weeping:
be that as it may, she was latterly grown quite blind. "God is very
good to us, child; I can _feel_ you yet." This she would sometimes
say; and we need not wonder to hear, that Rosamund clave unto her
grandmother.
Margaret retained a spirit unbroken by calamity. There was a
principle _within_, which it seemed as if no outward circumstances
could reach. It was a _religious_ principle, and she had taught it to
Rosamund; for the girl had mostly resided with her grandmother from
her earliest years. Indeed she had taught her all that she knew
herself; and the old lady's knowledge did not extend a vast way.
Margaret had drawn her maxims from observation; and a pretty long
experience in life had contributed to make her, at times, a little
_positive:_ but Rosamund never argued with her grandmother.
Their library consisted chiefly in a large family Bible, with notes
and expositions by various learned expositors, from Bishop Jewell
downwards.
This might never be suffered to lie about like other books, but was
kept constantly wrapt up in a handsome case of green velvet, with
gold tassels--the only relic of departed grandeur they had brought
with them to the cottage--everything else of value had been sold off
for the purpose above mentioned.
This Bible Rosamund, when a child, had never dared to open without
permission; and even yet, from habit, continued the custom. Margaret
had parted with none of her _authority_; indeed it was never exerted
with much harshness; and happy was Rosamund, though a girl grown,
when she could obtain leave to read her Bible. It was a treasure too
valuable for an indiscriminate use; and Margaret still pointed out to
her grand-daughter _where to read._
Besides this, they had the "Complete Angler, or Contemplative Man's
Recreation," with cuts--"Pilgrim's Progress," the first part--a
Cookery Book, with a few dry sprigs of rosemary and lavender stuck
here and there between the leaves, (I suppose to point to some of the
old lady's most favorite receipts,) and there was "Wither's Emblems,"
an old book, and quaint. The old-fashioned pictures in this last book
were among the first exciters of the infant Rosamund's curiosity. Her
contemplation had fed upon them in rather older years.
Rosamund had not read many books besides these; or if any, they had
been only occasional companions: these were to Rosamund as old
friends, that she had long known. I know not whether the peculiar
cast of her mind might not be traced, in part, to a tincture she had
received, early in life, from Walton and Wither, from John Bunyan and
her Bible.
Rosamund's mind was pensive and reflective, rather than what passes
usually for _clever_ or _acute_. From a child she was remarkably shy
and thoughtful--this was taken for stupidity and want of feeling; and
the child has been sometimes whipt for being a _stubborn thing_, when
her little heart was almost bursting with affection.
Even now her grandmother would often reprove her, when she found her
too grave or melancholy; give her sprightly lectures about good-humor
and rational mirth; and not unfrequently fall a-crying herself, to
the great discredit of her lecture. Those tears endeared her the more
to Rosamund.
Margaret would say, "Child, I love you to cry, when I think you are
only remembering your poor dear father and mother;--I would have you
think about them sometimes--it would be strange if you did not; but I
fear, Rosamund--I fear, girl, you sometimes think too deeply about
your own situation and poor prospects in life. When you do so, you do
wrong--remember the naughty rich man in the parable. He never had any
good thoughts about God, and his religion: and that might have been
your case."
Rosamund, at these times, could not reply to her; she was not in the
habit of _arguing_ with her grandmother; so she was quite silent on
these occasions--or else the girl knew well enough herself, that she
had only been sad to think of the desolate condition of her best
friend, to see her, in her old age, so infirm and blind. But she had
never been used to make excuses, when the old lady said she was doing
wrong.
The neighbors were all very kind to them. The veriest rustics never
passed them without a bow, or a pulling off of the hat--some show of
courtesy, awkward indeed, but affectionate--with a "Good-morrow,
madam," or "young madam," as it might happen.
Rude and savage natures, who seem born with a propensity to express
contempt for anything that looks like prosperity, yet felt respect
for its declining lustre.
The farmers, and better sort of people, (as they are called,) all
promised to provide for Rosamund when her grandmother should die.
Margaret trusted in God and believed them.
She used to say, "I have lived many years in the world, and have
never known people, _good people_, to be left without some friend; a
relation, a benefactor, a _something_. God knows our wants--that it
is not good for man or woman to be alone; and he always sends us a
helpmate, a leaning place, a _somewhat_." Upon this sure ground of
experience, did Margaret build her trust in Providence.
* * * * *