"A CHARACTER OF THE LATE ELIA
"BY A FRIEND
"This gentleman, who for some months past had been in a declining
way, hath at length paid his final tribute to nature. He just
lived long enough (it was what he wished) to see his papers
collected into a volume. The pages of the LONDON MAGAZINE will
henceforth know him no more.
"Exactly at twelve last night his queer spirit departed, and
the bells of Saint Bride's rang him out with the old year. The
mournful vibrations were caught in the dining-room of his friends
T. and H.; and the company, assembled there to welcome in another
First of January, checked their carousals in mid-mirth and were
silent. Janus wept. The gentle P----r, in a whisper, signified his
intention of devoting an Elegy; and Allan C----, nobly forgetful
of his countrymen's wrongs, vowed a Memoir to his _manes_, full
and friendly as a Tale of Lyddal-cross."
_Elia_ had just been published when this paper appeared, and it was
probably Lamb's serious intention to stop the series. He was, however,
prevailed to continue. T. and H. were Taylor & Hessey, the owners of
the _London Magazine_. Janus was Janus Weathercock, Thomas Griffiths
Wainewright; P----r was Bryan Waller Procter, or Barry Cornwall, who
afterwards wrote Lamb's life, and Allan C---- was Allan Cunningham,
who called himself "Nalla" in the _London Magazine_. "The Twelve Tales
of Lyddal Cross" ran serially in the magazine in 1822.
Page 171, line 9 from foot. _A former Essay_. In the _London Magazine_
"his third essay," referring to "Christ's Hospital Five and Thirty
Years Ago."
Page 172, line 7. _My late friend_. The opening sentences of this
paragraph seem to have been deliberately modelled, as indeed is the
whole essay, upon Sterne's character of Yorick in _Tristram Shandy_,
Vol. I., Chapter XI.
Page 172, line 12 from foot. _It was hit or miss with him_. Canon
Ainger has pointed out that Lamb's description of himself in
company is corroborated by Hazlitt in his essay "On Coffee-House
Politicians":--
I will, however, admit that the said Elia is the worst company in
the world in bad company, if it be granted me that in good company
he is nearly the best that can be. He is one of those of whom
it may be said, _Tell me your company, and I'll tell you your
manners_. He is the creature of sympathy, and makes good whatever
opinion you seem to entertain of him. He cannot outgo the
apprehensions of the circle; and invariably acts up or down to
the point of refinement or vulgarity at which they pitch him. He
appears to take a pleasure in exaggerating the prejudices of
strangers against him; a pride in confirming the prepossessions
of friends. In whatever scale of intellect he is placed, he is as
lively or as stupid as the rest can be for their lives. If you
think him odd and ridiculous, he becomes more and more so every
minute, _à la folie_, till he is a wonder gazed at by all--set him
against a good wit and a ready apprehension, and he brightens more
and more ...