ip between them.

Dibdin's letter of discovery was signed D. Hence Lamb's fumbling after
his Christian name, which he probably knew all the time.]

LETTER 319

CHARLES LAMB TO BERNARD BARTON

[P.M. 3 May, 1823.]

Dear Sir--I am vexed to be two letters in your debt, but I have been
quite out of the vein lately. A philosophical treatise is wanting, of
the causes of the backwardness with which persons after a certain time
of life set about writing a letter. I always feel as if I had nothing to
say, and the performance generally justifies the presentiment. Taylor
and Hessey did foolishly in not admitting the sonnet. Surely it might
have followed the B.B. I agree with you in thinking Bowring's paper
better than the former. I will inquire about my Letter to the Old
Gentleman, but I expect it to _go in_, after those to the Young Gent'n
are completed. I do not exactly see why the Goose and little Goslings
should emblematize _a Quaker poet that has no children_. But after
all--perhaps it is a Pelican. The Mene Mene Tekel Upharsin around it I
cannot decypher. The songster of the night pouring out her effusions
amid a Silent Meeting of Madge Owlets, would be at least intelligible. A
full pause here comes upon me, as if I had not a word more left. I will
shake my brain. Once-- twice--nothing comes up. George Fox recommends
waiting on these occasions. I wait. Nothing comes. G. Fox--that sets me
off again. I have finished the Journal, and 400 more pages of the
_Doctrinals_, which I picked up for 7s. 6d. If I get on at this rate,
the Society will be in danger of having two Quaker poets--to patronise.
I am at Dalston now, but if, when I go back to Cov. Gar., I find thy
friend has not call'd for the Journal, thee must put me in a way of
sending it; and if it should happen that the Lender of it, having that
volume, has not the other, I shall be most happy in his accepting the
Doctrinals, which I shall read but once certainly. It is not a splendid
copy, but perfect, save a leaf of Index.

I cannot but think _the London_ drags heavily. I miss Janus. And O how
it misses Hazlitt! Procter too is affronted (as Janus has been) with
their abominable curtailment of his things--some meddling Editor or
other--or phantom of one --for neither he nor Janus know their busy
friend. But they always find the best part cut out; and they have done
well to cut also. I am not so fortunate as to be served in this manner,
for I would give a clean sum