I won't trouble you for any in _my way_ yet, having enough to read.
Young Hazlitt lives, at least his father does, at _3_ or _36_ [36 I have
it down, with the _6_ scratch'd out] Bouverie Street, Fleet Street. If
not to be found, his mother's address is, Mrs. Hazlitt, Mrs.
Tomlinson's, Potters Bar. At one or other he must be heard of. We shall
expect you with the full moon. Meantime, our thanks.

C.L.

We go on very quietly &c.

["Calamy" would be Edmund Calamy (1671-1732), the historian of
Nonconformity.

Mr. W.C. Hazlitt in his _Memoir of Hazlitt_ says that his grandfather
moved in 1829 to 3 Bouverie Street, and in the beginning of 1830 to 6
Frith Street, Soho. Young Hazlitt was William junior, afterwards Mr.
Registrar Hazlitt and then seventeen years of age.]

LETTER 487

CHARLES LAMB TO WALTER WILSON

May 28, 1829.

Dear W.,--Introduce this, or omit it, as you like. I think I wrote
better about it in a letter to you from India H. If you have that,
perhaps out of the two I could patch up a better thing, if you'd return
both. But I am very poorly, and have been harassed with an illness of my
sister's.

The Ode was printed in the "New Times" nearly the end of 1825, and I
have only omitted some silly lines. Call it a corrected copy.

Yours ever, C. LAMB.

Put my name to either or both, as you like.

[This letter contains Lamb's remarks on the Secondary Novels of Defoe,
printed in Wilson's _Life and Times of De Foe_, Chapter XVII. of Vol.
III., and also his "Ode to the Treadmill," which Wilson omitted from
that work. See Vols. I. and IV. of the present edition for both pieces.]

LETTER 488

CHARLES LAMB TO BERNARD BARTON

[P.M. June 3, 1829.]

Dear B.B.--I am very much grieved indeed for the indisposition of poor
Lucy. Your letter found me in domestic troubles. My sister is again
taken ill, and I am obliged to remove her out of the house for many
weeks, I fear, before I can hope to have her again. I have been very
desolate indeed. My loneliness is a little abated by our young friend
Emma having just come here for her holydays, and a schoolfellow of hers
that was, with her. Still the house is not the same, tho' she is the
same. Mary had been pleasing herself with the prospect of seeing her at
this time; and with all their company, the house feels at times a
frightful solitude. May you and I in no very long time have a more
cheerful theme to write about, and congratulate upon a daughter's a